


The Gamers, Backstory

by JackBivouac



Series: The Secret Lives of NPCs [1]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Pathfinder (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Growing Up, Human Trafficking, Kidnapping, Magic School, Multi, Students
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:22:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28305246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackBivouac/pseuds/JackBivouac
Summary: The Lantern King, prankster god of the fey, bestows his power on a whim on two kids visiting the little town of Sandpoint, turning them into the first of his 'gamers.'Follows plot points from Rise of the Runelords, Curse of the Crimson Throne, Legacy of Fire
Series: The Secret Lives of NPCs [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2073111





	1. Book 1, Siblings

The siblings Garnet (she/they) and Red (he/they) were 13 and 11 when Apollyon’s Plague arrived in the ports of Magnimar. They were two of the very, very few lucky ones. Their parents won a lottery held by Turandarok Academy on the rural outskirts of the Magnimarian city state and were able to send the siblings to the safety of the academy. Because the children were poor commoners, however, they were not allowed to enroll in any study programs. Instead, they were made servants of the academy--assigned to clean or cook in exchange for food to eat and the roof over their heads.

They had only been at Turandarok for two weeks and already, they’d been worked to the bone every single day. But as summer ended, a local religious festival marked the beginning of fall. It was called the Swallowtail Festival after the swallowtail butterfly sacred to the goddess Desna. On this day, everyone, even servants like Garnet and Red, were allowed the day off.

The grouchy old head cook, Carrots, in a rare moment of not barking orders at them, recommended that the siblings head to the nearby town of Sandpoint to watch the Swallowtail Release. He even pretended not to notice when they took a few extra loaves of bread with them from those prepared in advance for the students and teachers.

The route was easy enough to follow. They headed north along the rocky western coastline. Fog draped the rolling landscape east of the road, floating spectrally along the damp and lonely moor. There were small woodlands in the distance, their tangled depths full of nettles, pepperwood, and pine sap. There was a vastness and sense of isolation here--no wonder it was called the Lost Coast.

But as they rounded the final bend of the road, they were greeted by the sight of smoking chimneys and bustling streets. Hanging from a bent nail at the bridge outside the southern gatehouse was a mirror and a sign: “Welcome to Sandpoint! Please stop to see yourself as we see you!”

Garnet and Red couldn't read, but they stopped to take the briefest look out of curiosity. It was clear to anyone that the two Varisians were related. They had the same olive brown skin, large almond-shaped eyes, and unruly mops of dark brown hair. They weren’t as free as they’d been playing on the city streets, but they were better fed at the academy and it showed--they’d grown a bit taller and filled out a little. It was too bad they couldn’t send any of the school’s food back to their parents.

Garnet and Red crossed the bridge and followed other celebrants to a large town square before a newly constructed wooden cathedral to Desna. It wasn’t much compared to the great stone temples in Magnimar, but the stained glass windows were stunning even from the outside. They depicted scenes with butterflies in blue and white, the colors of the goddess of dreams, luck, stars, and travel.

The square itself was packed with locals and travelers and lined with merchant tents. Food, clothes, local crafts, and souvenirs were all for sale. The siblings browsed the wares while barely listening to the four keynote speakers entertaining the crowd from a wooden podium. 

Noon came quickly. A Desnan priest and acolytes wheeled a large covered wagon into the square, drawing everyone’s attention, including the siblings’. The Varisian priest then stepped up to the podium and recounted a short tale of how Desna first fell to earth. She was nursed back to health by a blind child, who she transformed into an immortal butterfly as a reward for their aid.

“But what if the kid didn’t want to be a butterfly?” Red whispered.

“Maybe that’s part of the lesson,” Garnet whispered back. “Gods don’t think like us.”

“Then why do so many people worship them?”

“I don’t know, Red.”

At that moment, the acolytes pulled aside the wagon’s cover. A furious storm of a thousand swallowtail butterflies swarmed into the air in a spiraling riot of color. The crowd roared with cheers. Lots of younger children broke away from their parents, laughing and chasing after the butterflies.

But the best was yet to come. Lunch was provided for free! Sandpoint’s taverns had each brought their best dishes. The siblings tried everything, but they most enjoyed a curry-spiced salmon from the Rusty Dragon. With their bellies full to bursting, the urge to nap began setting in.

They found a shady nook in an alley and slept off their enormous meal. They hadn’t been so relaxed for the past two weeks. Their overworked bodies happily overslept.

The sun had already begun to set when a sharp retort, like the crack of distant thunder, sliced through the hubbub of the crowd. The siblings jolted awake to catch the sun’s setting rays painting the sky in every color.

“Oh, crap,” said Garnet. They were supposed to be back before dark. The academy was gonna skin their hides--if they even let them back in!

“It’s ok, it’s ok. Let’s just run back right now,” said Red.

They got to their feet. And jumped as a scream pierced the air. A few moments later, another scream rose from the crowd. Then another. Beyond them, a chant surged--high-pitched, shrill, and not quite human. The screaming crowd parted. Something low to the ground raced by in a blur of green. 

The creature stopped to lick the blood off their blade. It was a goblin--big-headed, bug-eyed, and knife-eared. All around, goblins leaped to attack the crowd, shrieking and cackling.

“Garnet, look out!” shouted Red.

Two goblins leaped into their alley. One was wielding a flaming torch. The other cracked a wicked whip while chanting that horrible, hair-raising chant.

Red moved without thinking. He grunted and spun into a mighty kick. Little known to these goblins, he was exceptionally strong for his age. The top of his foot collided with the torch goblin’s head and promptly knocked the little green guy out.

Garnet, on the other hand, froze. Her eyes locked with the huge, red bug-eyes of the war chanter.

[Trace activated]

[Ability traced: inspire courage, bolster yourself and allies against fear and improve accuracy and damage]

“What the--yike!” Garnet jumped back as the goblin’s whip cracked inches in front of her face.

“Take that!” shouted Red, coming in with an even more powerful kick while the war chanter was focused on his sibling.

The whip-wielding goblin dropped to the ground. But two more goblins, each with a weird, mini shortsword with holes in it, cackled and charged toward the alley.

“In-inspire courage!” said Garnet, cowering against the wall. The traced ability activated at the mere thought of it, and she suddenly found herself singing a wordless but bold tune.

[Saves v. fear increased by 1. Attack and damage increased by 1.]

“What the--?” Yeah, that was a really weird notification inside his mind, but Red felt a difference. He felt bolder and stronger than ever. He shrugged and kicked at the oncoming goblins. They dropped just like the others. “Woah! Keep it up, Garnet!”

She nodded, continuing to chant as a group of four torch goblins noticed their fallen comrades. Red whooped in exhilaration and charged in.

[Level up: gamer 2. Base attack bonus increased by 1. HP increased]

“Did you see that?” asked Garnet, dropping the song.

“Yeah, it’s weird, but I think we just got stronger,” Red grinned. “Are we magic? Do Mom and Dad know about this?”

“I don’t know, but I feel like they would’ve told us if they knew something like this could happen.”

“Woah--you don’t think it was Desna, do you?”

“I...we could ask that priest, but not right now. Look out!”

A goblin commando came riding by on a mangy canine with the same pointed nose, beady eyes, and protruding teeth as a rat grown 5ft long. The commando was chasing an older kid in the Turandarok uniform with four more goblins in tow.

Garnet and Red shared a nod. They had no particular loyalty to the snooty, older kids at the academy, but they weren’t gonna let these goblins murder someone in front of them. Not when they’d just levelled up.

Garnet took up her wordless war chant. Red stepped into a fighting stance, whistling loudly to draw to the goblin dog’s attention. The overgrown mutt wheeled around, snarling and locking its beady eyes with him.

[Trace activated]

[Ability traced: bite plus allergic reaction]

The goblin commando drew a shortbow and fired. The four goblins shrieked and charged. In two strikes and two goblins down, it was clear that Red was more than a match for the little guys.

The commando and dog rode at the siblings as Red took down the next two with some well-meaning but far less powerful kicks from Garnet. The siblings kicked out the dog together. The commando went flying with a high-pitched yelp. Red punched and bit at them as they passed. The goblin hit the ground and didn’t get up.

The 15-year-old student climbed to their feet from where they’d fallen. They rushed over toward the siblings, their face painted with sweat and relief. The kid was half-Chelish, half-Shoanti. They had ash brown hair, black eyes, and light brown skin.

“Sweet Lady Luck, you two were amazing!”

“Well, Red was, anyway,” said Garnet, ruffling his hair.

“No, no, you were wonderful, too,” they said, taking her hand in theirs. “I-I’m Ader Foxglove. Thank you both, you saved my life!”

Ader had a last name. Only noble or wealthy families had them, which tracked, given that they were a Turandarok student. They glanced around nervously for more goblins--whatever their program of study was, they clearly weren’t confident enough to rely on it.

“Do you want to stick with us?” asked Red.

“Are you going to hide and wait this out, too?”

The siblings shared a look. There were still a dozen goblins tearing through merchant stalls, lighting fires, and menacing the panicked populace in the square. What was sorely lacking were folk able to drive them off.

Red threw a thumb over his shoulder. “We should take care of this.”

“We’d better do it now while we’ve got the light,” said Garnet.

“Luck of the goddess be with you,” said Ader.

Twelve knocked out goblins later, the siblings got a notification that they had become level 3 gamers.

[Fortitude, Reflex, and Will increased by 1. HP increased]

[Ability traced: darkvision, see 60ft in darkness]

By this time, the battle had been decided. Surviving goblins fled into the darkness. Those knocked out in the square were being loaded into an iron-barred wagon to wheel away for interrogation.

It was really much too late, but the siblings were already here with the Desnan church just across the square. Garnet and Red shrugged--they wouldn't get much sleep, but they could still make it back before first light. So the two knocked on the barred cathedral doors.

"Hi, we just have a quick question," said Red.

"It's safe now, by the way," added Garnet. "We took care of the goblins."

The doors opened just enough to show the face of the middle-aged, Varisian priest. He was a stout, balding fellow in simple but well-made clerical robes in the goddess’ blue and white. Curious acolytes popped their heads up to peer through the stained glass windowsill on either side of the doors.

“You...did indeed take care of those goblins, though I wouldn’t have believed it unless I’d seen it myself. For that, I thank you children. My name is Father Zantus. What is your question?”

“The goblins came after us and suddenly all this stuff happened,” said Red.

“We got more...powerful, I guess,” Garnet clarified.

“It was weird but awesome. We just wanted to know if it was Desna who made it happen.”

The priest frowned in thought. “Perhaps. There’s a way to check for a sign of Lady Luck’s favor, but I’d need to order some materials from the temple in Magnimar. If you come back next week, I should be able to perform the test.”

“We can do it, right Gar?”

The elder sibling nodded. It would mean another sleepless night, but unless there was some other holiday they didn’t know about next week, their only option was to sneak out and back. It’d be worth it to know if they should actually be adopting some religious thanks-giving. “Thanks Father, that’s it. We should really be getting back now.”

“Desna guide your steps.”


	2. Chapter 2

Even with their newly acquired darkvision, the road was a frightful and dangerous place at night. Strange sounds and lights came from the moor at any time. Where the road neared the edge of the coastal cliffs, the sea churned menacingly from below.

Then came a scream. Garnet and Red practically jumped out of their skins. It was just down the road. They proceeded cautiously, quietly. The sounds of munching meat grew.

A carriage entered their field of vision. It was on its side, dangerously close to the edge of the cliff. Its horses had vanished, hopefully into the moor rather than the long drop to the sea. The driver had been pulled into the road--what was left of them, anyway.

A humanoid creature, hairless and emaciated lurched over the driver's body, its legs bending backward like a dog's. It tore off pieces of their flesh with unnaturally long arms ending in three-fingered talons. To eat, its blood-splattered lower jaw split in half at the chin. Two taloned, crab-like mouth arms dropped shreds of meat into its open gullet.

The siblings stared in frozen, blood-curdling terror. The pale monster's head turned, swiveling toward them like a rusty screw. Its nose was little more than a pair of slits. Its red, bulging eyes met theirs.

[Trace activated]

[Ability traced: natural armor, your Armor Class has increased by 2]

The creature, that they now somehow knew was called a sinspawn, dropped its bloody dinner and charged. Garnet screamed--into her wordless war chant. Red screamed into a roar, shifting into an instinctive fighting stance.

The sinspawn's claws raked bloody scratches down Red's arms. Its horrific mandibles crunched down on Garnet's shoulder, leaving her almost too sickened with pain to sing.

But the twins couldn't stop fighting. It was fight, or die. Despite the pain, they held on for themselves and each other. With a few more solid kicks from Red, they knocked out the sinspawn. The only sound left on the dark road was their ragged breathing.

The carriage door creaked up and open. The siblings yelped. Wounded, they prepared to run. But the face that popped up belonged to a 12-year-old girl.

Her large brown eyes met theirs and instantly relaxed. She stood up and climbed awkwardly out of the carriage. She was half-Tian, half-Varisian with short black hair and deep olive skin. Like Ader, she wore the Turandarok uniform. "Are you ok? Oh, and thanks for saving my life. I'm Iko Kaijitsu."

"I think we'll be fine if we don't run into any more monsters. I'm Red."

"I'm Garnet. If you're headed back to the academy too, we should probably stick together."

"Oh! Are you two students, too?"

"Nope," said Red grumpily.

"We're...servants," Garnet explained.

"What?! But you're so skilled! I just started this semester, but you're way better than me--I tested into an F-rank class."

Classes at the academy were mixed-age. Everyone who wanted to attend Turandarok had to take a placement exam, ranking them from F to A. Students could test for a new rank with a professor's approval. Only those who passed an exit exam after studying A-ranked classes were considered graduates. As a result, students from wealthy families with money to burn often attended the prestigious, cash-grabbing school for years and years.

"Yeah, well, I don't know if I'd even want to go to school there," said Red. "We did just fine without school in Magnimar."

"Wait...does that mean...do you even know how to read?"

"...no," Garnet quietly admitted.

"Holy North Star! You have to at least learn to read--the school's library has like a million amazing stories and all kinds of books. You can't be at Turandarok even as a servant and miss out on that. Ok, I have an idea! I'll write to mom back in Sandpoint and ask her to sponsor you."

"Won't that be really expensive?" asked Garnet.

"Yeah, but we Kaijitsus have our pride and you saved my life. That's worth at least a semester or two of tuition."

"Huh. I guess we could try," Red shrugged. He still didn't like the idea of school, but he was a big fan stories.

By the time the three made it back to the academy, it was already past midnight. Iko got them past the gate guard without having to sneak in. They parted ways, Iko to the dorms and the siblings to the servants' quarters. After getting in so easily, Red and Garnet dropped their guard and used the servants' front entrance. They were caught by the crotchety old head of staff and soundly beaten for breaking curfew.

The morning came much too soon. After fewer than four hours of sleep, the exhausted siblings were put to work scrubbing the halls. The first four days of the week passed as normal, but both Garnet and Red managed to sneak a peek at a couple of classes.

Garnet was raking leaves on the grounds when one professor brought their class out to the large pond behind the school. She kept her distance, especially after spotting Ader amongst the students, but also kept the group in sight. From snatches of the lecture, this was some kind of monster biology course.

Suddenly, the teacher cast a conjuring spell, a summoning circle flashing over the pond. A brown-furred, seal-like creature with the razor-sharp maw of a shark appeared over the circle and promptly splashed into the water. The students jumped back from the splash, yelping and laughing.

The creature's head broke the surface 50ft out into the pond. It opened its terrifying maw and let out an even more nightmarish roar--blasting everyone within 100ft of it into a supernatural panic. The professor laughed merrily as the students dropped their books and ran screaming in all directions.

Fortunately, Garnet was far enough from the pond not to be affected. But her eyes did lock with the summoned creature...a bunyip.

[Ability traced: water-breathing, breathe underwater indefinitely]

She made a mental note to dunk her head into her morning wash basin tomorrow and try that.

Red also happened upon one of Ader's classes. He was sweeping the columned walkways free of sand when the students followed their teacher into the training arena. The professor got out a wooden dummy to demonstrate today's techniques. 

Red leaned on his broom to watch, totally enthralled by the teacher's fluid grace. In fact, the professor was so proficient that they were able to get in supernally fast extra strikes. They turned back to face the class. For the briefest moment, their eyes caught Red's.

[Ability traced: flurry of blows, make an additional attack when you attack]

He looked away, hastily returning to his sweeping. There was no telling if the teacher had noticed his tracing or not, but it seemed like a good sign when they split the class up into pairs for sparring. Red raised his head again just in time to see Ader's partner wipe the floor with them.

Ader laid in the sand for a moment. They climbed up to their feet near the corner of the walkway, brushing themself off. And spotted Red with the broom.

"It's you! What are you doing here?" they asked quietly so as not to draw their professor's attention and reprimand.

"Me and Garnet work here. I'm Red, by the way."

"That's great news! I'd love to talk more with you both. Er, but maybe you could forget mentioning to Garnet that you saw me wipe out today."

"Why? Do you like her?" Red waggled his eyebrows in teasing.

Ader's face flushed. "No! I-I've just made a poor enough impression on you, and I'd rather not spread that reputation around."

"Ader!" snapped the professor. "Quit wasting your time and get over here and spar!"

"Gotta go, but good seeing you!" They ran back into the arena in a spray of more sand for Red to sweep.

Instead of meeting with Ader, however, on the fifth day, the head of staff woke the siblings with a summons to the academy head's office. The two shared a nervous glance, but with the head of staff snapping on their heels, they scrambled out of the servants' quarters as fast as they could. They slowed only within sight of the office doors, ornately carved with west coast trees and wildlife.

Garnet gave a single, hesitant knock. In the four a.m. stillness, it might as well have been as loud as a church bell. The door opened by itself. A voice not the secretary's called out to them from the inner office.

"Garnet and Red of Magnimar, come in. You're expected." The speaker stood behind the inner office's desk with a file in one hand. It was Headmaster Clay Sedona, a lean and towering elf with piercing, solid gray eyes, earth brown skin, and fiery red hair ties back in a long ponytail. He/they looked young but as an elf, there was no telling how many centuries he'd lived.

The siblings timidly entered the inner office beneath his implacable gaze. The door shut behind them on its own--no, by magic.

"You may sit."

They sat.

"Ameko Kaijitsu of Sandpoint has decided to sponsor you for this fall and next spring's semesters. As such, you are to take the placement exam first thing next week. Should you perform exceptionally well during your year of study, you may be considered for a scholarship to continue your education. Though I highly doubt that will be the case.

“As of this morning, you will no longer be required to perform your duties as servants until the end of the spring semester. You will no longer be required to stay in the servants’ quarters either, but your dorm room has not yet been prepared. Your time for these next three days is now your own. You are free to explore all areas of the campus open to students, but should you disturb any of the classes in session, the infractions will count against any recommendations for scholarship.

“Do you have any questions?"

The siblings shook their heads. They were far too shocked to speak.

“Then you are dismissed. Enjoy your term of study at Turandarok.”

Garnet and Red speedwalked out of the office. Then ran out of the building onto the campus green. They jumped, screamed, hugged, and cartwheeled in the chilly darkness.

They were free of their servitude. Heck, they were free to do whatever they wanted for today and the weekend. Which meant they could go see Father Zantus for the god-favor test. They should really also thank Iko and her mother.

Since Iko would be heading to breakfast around six, the siblings waited for her in the cafeteria. It was a huge building capable of seating all the students and staff at mealtimes. The students typically sat with their classmates, separated by rank, but there were exceptions. During fair weather, but even now, some took their loaded trays to the outdoor seating area.

Old Carrots was behind the line of warming dishes for the breakfast buffet. He and the rest of the head staff must've gotten word of the siblings' temporary freedom, because he jerked his head toward the self-serving trays with a grouchy smile.

Garnet and Red grinned back. They grabbed their trays and loaded them up with all the fancy goodies reserved for students and teachers. They sat in the F-rank area to feast as they waited for their friend.

“Garnet! Red!” Iko gave them a big hug from behind. “I knew Mom would come through! But where are your uniforms? Did you already take the placement exam?”

The siblings swallowed hastily to answer. 

“Maybe we get uniforms after the exam--it’s first thing next week,” said Red.

“Iko, thanks so much for writing to your mom and getting us in,” said Garnet. “We really want to thank her, too.”

“Yeah, we’re gonna head back to Sandpoint after breakfast. Do you know where we could find her?”

“Sure, she runs the Rusty Dragon tavern--big dragon on top, can’t miss it. But if you’re gonna go see her, I’ll take you there myself. It’ll be much faster by carriage anyway.”

Wow, she was rich. Her carriage had been totalled only last weekend and she already had access to a new one. It was mind-boggling.

Red shook his head to clear the boggling. “The more the merrier! We’ve got one other stop, though, at the new Desnan church.”

“Wait, don’t you have class?” asked Garnet.

“Yeah, sure, but Mom said when her little brother went here he was always ditching class. He didn’t graduate, but that’s a whole different story. Anyway, it’ll be fine! And Mom always loves to see me.”

That settled it. The three wrapped their breakfasts in three travel-cloth bundles to go and took Iko's carriage north.


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn't even midmorning yet when the carriage rolled into Sandpoint. The driver took the students to the Rusty Dragon first. The large wooden tavern was, indeed, hard to miss with the rusted iron dragon with its Tian-style, serpentine body on the roof.

Iko gasped at whatever was written on the sign on the front door, however. She scrambled out of the carriage and banged her fist against the door. Her face was painted with concern, but before the siblings could ask her what was wrong, a stout dwarven woman opened the door.

"Bethin! What's wrong? Why did Mom close the tavern?"

"Iko...you better come inside. Your friends, too," the woman said somberly. She opened the door wider to let them pass, revealing a once charming and welcoming tavern space fallen cold, silent, and empty.

The three shivered uneasily. Bethin offered to speak to Iko in private, but the girl refused to leave her friends in this place of deadened cheer. They sat at a table, and Bethin poured all four a mug of warm breakfast ale before beginning.

"Your mother went missing sometime last night. She wasn't in her room when I went to wake her this morning. I was writing to tell you when you arrived. There was a note, but it's written in Minkaian." She passed it across the table to Iko.

Garnet and Red took a look as well. They couldn't read Common letters. Minkaian, written in Tian characters, seemed even more difficult. Iko, however, frowned with understanding.

"It's from Uncle Tsuto. He thinks Grandpa had something to do with that goblin attack during the Swallowtail Festival, but that doesn't make sense! Grandpa would never work with a goblin." She shook her head, blinking back tears and plastering on a serious face. "A-anyway, he asked her to meet him at the Glassworks at midnight--Grandpa pretty much lives in his office there."

"Then maybe they're still there," said Red. "Grown-ups love talking for a long time."

"Maybe," Iko said glumly. Uncle Tsuto was only 19, so he'd been more like an annoying older brother for most of her life. It was hard to picture him as a real, genuine adult--it didn't help that he was half-elf, so he was always getting mistaken for a younger teen.

"We could go check, if you want," said Garnet.

"Yeah, yeah, better than sitting here and waiting for Mom to come back."

The Glassworks was a huge, glassworking smithy. It was unusually quiet to Iko's ear, but smoke still plumed from the furnace chimney, so someone had to be here. The door...was locked.

"Weird. Grandpa never locks the door during business hours." Or he'd have no business.

"How about the windows?" asked Garnet.

Red slid one up. "Good to go."

The three climbed into a small accounting office full of filing cabinets. Its door wasn't locked, thankfully. Iko led them through the eeriely quiet halls to the much louder glassworking room. All three froze at the sounds of breaking glass and shrill laughter and shrieks over the roar of the furnace.

"Goblins," said the siblings.

"Holy North Star…" breathed Iko. So Uncle Tsuto had been telling the truth. But wait, if the goblins were working for Grandpa, why would they be breaking his painstaking glassworks? "Something's not right."

"You mean, besides the goblins?" asked Garnet.

"I-yeah, I think so."

"Well, just stay back for now, and we'll handle the goblins," said Red.

Iko fell back and let the siblings go in first. Sure enough, there were eight goblins in the glassworking room. Not only did they have the furnace running in overdrive, but they were absolutely trashing the place.

Garnet took up a war chant. Red shifted into a fighting stance. He beckoned the goblins to come at him. As Iko watched them knock out the little green guys, something unexpected happened.

[Trace activated]

[Ability traced: darkvision, see 60ft in darkness]

"What the…?" said Iko.

"Did you level up, too?" asked Red, now a level 4 gamer.

"No, but I-I have darkvision now?"

"Iko, that's great!" said Garnet. "You're a gamer, too. That's what we were going to talk to Father Zantus about tomorrow."

But before the siblings could explain any further, a Tian half-elf who looked about 15 or 16 came in through the back, drawn by the sound of battle. He was slightly taller and slimmer than a human, but stalked with a predatory grace. He had pale olive skin, pitch black eyes, and jet black hair in a short ponytail. On his forehead was burned a weird, spiky glyph.

"What are you kids doing here? Iko--you can't be here."

"I can and I am! What in the North Star is going on? And what's that on your face?"

"You wouldn't understand!" Tsuto roared. "Now get out of here!"

"No!" Iko screamed back. "Not until I find Mom!"

"Uh, Iko," said Red, pointing at the opened door through which her uncle had entered, "is that her?"

A young Tian-Min woman was lying on the floor. She was unconscious with a large, ugly bruise on the side of her head.

"Shit!" Tsuto cursed, spinning into a kick at the observant kid.

Red caught the blow on his forearm, deflecting it. He struck back with his own flurry of kicks. Garnet chanted again, improving his accuracy and damage.

Much to the older teen's disbelief, he was forced back into a corner. The little punk wouldn't let him escape. Snarling like a cornered animal, Tsuto drew a shortbow and arrow.

"Red!" Garnet screamed in her chant.

"Uncle, no!" screamed the horrified Iko.

But having levelled up after those goblins, Red was even stronger and more dextrous. He kicked twice around the bow and even landed an allergen-laden bite.

The back of Tsuto's head clobbered against the wall. He dropped, knocked unconscious. The shortbow and arrow skittered away harmlessly.

[Ability traced: finesse training, you can use your Dexterity to hit with light weapons if it is higher than your Strength]

Garnet kicked the weapons even further from the half-elf. Red breathed out a long, shaky breath. Iko, ignoring the weird level up notification in her mind, ran to her mom in the back office. Ameko was still unconscious.

The three students decided to drag Tsuto into the back office as well to wait for the adults to wake up. The siblings kept a close eye on them while Iko stopped the furnace. Ameko had just begun to stir when she returned.

"Mom!" She flung her arms around her mother. "Mom, are you ok?"

"Iko...yeah, yeah, I'm fine. What are you doing here?" Ameko asked groggily.

"I came to see you. And these are my friends Garnet and Red--they came to thank you."

"I mean, what are you doing at Grandpa's?"

"Bethin showed us the note from Uncle Tsuto--Mom, something's wrong with him. He was so angry and he attacked us. And there's that burn on his head."

Ameko's eyes focused enough to pick out the siblings standing awkwardly in front of the door. But it was her half-brother on the floor who riveted her gaze. She frowned grimly. This wasn't a great place to talk, but she needed to keep a close watch on Tsuto.

"I-I have some bad news, honey. Your friends…"

"They stay," said Iko firmly.

Ameko nodded soberly. "I guess you'd hear of it soon anyway. Iko, your grandpa is dead. Murdered."

"What-what?! No! By the goblins?"

"By Uncle Tsuto, honey." She let out a long, weary sigh. "Where do I start?"

Tsuto had been living in Magnimar ever since dropping out of Turandarok. He fell into poverty. Desperate but too proud to ask his family for money, he'd fallen in with what he believed to be was a group of mercenaries, the Skinsaw Men. In truth, they were cultists.

Ameko could only guess they were the ones to burn that terrible glyph into his forehead and twist his mind. They set him up with an ally of theirs hell-bent on taking vengeance against Sandpoint. Her name was Nua. She'd been disowned by her parents, who'd died during the goblin attack, and later outcast by the small town who'd superstitiously blamed her for poor harvests, trade, and illness.

"Why would they do that?" asked Red.

"She was different," Ameko shrugged sadly. "Nua was born an aasimar, someone with the blood of celestials in her veins. It made her supernaturally beautiful, and the townsfolk with the smallest minds just couldn't stand it. They did horrible, evil things to her, even turning her parents against her, that drove her off to Magnimar.

"Anyway, she and Tsuto came back full of wrath and schemes. They orchestrated the goblin attack. Nua's still with the goblins, planning something bigger. That's all Tsuto would tell me before trying to get me to join him--join him or die with the rest of Sandpoint."

"That is MESSED up," said Garnet.

"You're telling me."

Iko shook her head. "No, but Uncle couldn't be serious."

"Honey, cults can do a real number on your head--never join a cult."

“So...what do we do?” asked Red.

“You kids have done enough. I’m gonna stay here and take some sense into him when he wakes up. Then we’ll go talk some sense into Nua. You three go back to the Rusty Dragon and let Bethin know I’m here. She can run messages between us.”

“But Mom, what if Tsuto--what if he attacks you again?”

“He only got the jump on me last time because I wasn’t expecting it. But let me assure you, I’m a completely different rank from my lil’ bro.”

Somewhat reassured, the three reluctantly left Ameko for the Rusty Dragon. Bethin went off to the Glassworks at once, pointing the students to the pantry to help themselves. They ate nervously, barely tasting anything. Worse, there wasn’t anything to do in the empty tavern except clean--not that any of them wanted that.

“Why don’t we go see Father Zantus?” Garnet suggested.

“I--yeah. Yeah, we can at least get one question answered,” said Red. “Iko? You coming with us?”

She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and nodded, plastering on a wavering smile. The three made their way to the brand new cathedral. The doors were open wide this time, and Father Zantus welcomed them heartily.

The head cleric led them to his office and offered them seats. He sat behind his desk and gingerly unfurled a scroll. It was covered in glyphs--they were fluid and curling unlike the spiky glyph on Tsuto’s forehead. As Father Zantus chanted the magic words, the glyphs lifted off of the parchment. They turned to pure, iridescent light and swirled up over the heads of the three students.

Garnet, Red, and Iko looked at each other and watched the light take shape into three merry little golden lanterns dancing over their heads. When they looked back at the priest, however, he’d gone pale.

“What? What is it?”

“The golden lantern isn’t the symbol of any of our gods. It’s the symbol of the Lantern King, one of the Eldest. A fey divinity from the First World.”

“Is that bad?” asked Garnet.

“Not-not bad per say. It’s just that the Lantern King isn’t like our Desna. She’s chaotic, but good, her intentions always pure. The Lantern King is also known as the Laughing Lie. He’s a divinity of fey chaos, a god of laughter, mischief, and transformation. The favor of that kind of being…”

“That actually kinda makes sense,” said Red. This fey god had turned them into ‘gamers’ after all.

“Does that...does that mean we should be worshipping the Lantern King?” asked Iko. “Because I kinda already worship the North Star--er, Desna.”

“Well...from what I’ve heard, the Lantern King doesn’t respond to or even seem to desire worship. When he grants power, it’s always according to his whim.”

Garnet and Red shared a look and a shrug. An easy-going, carefree god was perfect for non-religious folk like them.


	4. Chapter 4

The three went back to the tavern. Garnet and Red took a nap. Iko couldn’t. She couldn’t focus enough to read, so she ended up cleaning instead. The mindless, monotonous activity was comforting after the shock of this morning.

She’d never been close with Grandpa because he’d never been close to Mom. Because of her, her birth. But it hurt to know he’d died. It hurt to watch Uncle Tsuto attack her friends, to know he’d attacked her mom.

After cleaning, after cooking, she felt a small but iron seed of resolve in her chest. When the siblings woke, she called them down to a table and set the food down for them all to share. Iko waited until they’d finished before sharing her thoughts.

“I want to go after Nua and the goblins.”

“Yeah, we’d be happy to help your mom,” said Garnet. Ameko was their sponsor, after all.

“I mean, right now.”

“But we don’t know where the goblins are,” said Red.

“How about all those goblins back at the Glassworks?”

“You speak Goblin?” asked Garnet.

“Oh. No…” Her face fell.

“Are you sure we can’t just ask your mom to let us go with her?” asked Red.

“She’d never let us.”

“Well...I guess we could sneak back and try to eavesdrop on her and your uncle,” said Garnet.

Iko perked up at that. “Yeah! That’s a great idea!”

The siblings shared a look. Actually, it didn’t sound like a great idea. It sounded invasive, and Garnet already regretted suggesting it. On the other hand, Ameko was determined to talk reason into Tsuto before heading out to stop Nua, and who knew how long that would take.

So Iko wrote a note for Bethin and her mom that they’d decided to go back to the academy, even sending the driver and carriage away empty. The three then headed back to the Glassworks. They snuck in through the side this time in case Bethin was out front.

The hall they entered from the window was connected to living quarters on the second floor by a staircase. Out of curiosity, Iko took her friends upstairs first. One of the recently used rooms was Tsuto’s old room! The three quietly searched through it, turning up a journal. Sure, he’d written in Minkaian, but Iko could read that.

“Yes! The location’s here, Thistletop. There’s a map--well, directions anyway. Come on, let’s go!”

The three students headed out of Sandpoint and followed the Lost Coast Road east. Two hours later, they’d reached the Thistle River crossing. 60ft off the rocky coast was a curiously round island connected to the mainland by a very treacherous-looking rope bridge. It was topped by a supposedly abandoned wooden fort.

“That’s Thistletop, but that’s not the real entrance. Nua and her followers are supposed to be in some kind of stone dungeon below the fort. If we go through the Nettlewood just across the river, there should be a goblin trail to a secret dug-out entrance tunnel.”

Garnet and Red followed her lead into the dark, woody growth. The briars and thistles grew so rampantly in the Nettlewood that they were almost dense enough to block out the sound of crashing waves. The growth was certainly thick enough to block the sight of the coast.

Following the journal’s directions, the three managed to find a narrow trail just wide enough for them to pass in single file. They followed it to a cleverly constructed rigid mat of thistles and nettles--a trapdoor. It lifted aside to reveal a 4ft-high tunnel of hard-packed earth.

They had to walk slightly stooped, but they had no trouble following the dark tunnel with their darkvision. It was a one-way shot that led into a large, creepy chamber. A tangle of vines hung from the ceiling, each suspending a clattering collection of bird skulls, rib bones, teeth, and other bits of gruesome decor. In one corner was a nest of nettles and thorny vines, beside it a pile of half-eaten dead birds and rats.

Out from the darkness prowled a snarling firepelt cougar, steely muscles rippling beneath its red and black striped fur. Red stepped between the cougar and the others, but Garnet chanted uncertainly. Knocking out goblins was one thing, but--

The cougar pounced at Red with a fierce growl, biting and clawing. He struck and kicked back but cried out in pain. Garnet shakily kept up her song and ran into the fray. Though hesitating for a second, Iko couldn't let her friends take on the mauling beast alone. She charged in with a terrified scream.

Garnet and Iko managed to distract the cougar enough to loosen its death-grip on Red. But the sounds of battle had already traveled up the tunnel. Ten pairs of goblin feet came scampering down, paired with their high-pitched chittering.

"Take care of the goblins--I'll take care of the cougar!" said Red.

"G-got it" Garnet chanted, sharing an uncertain glance with Iko. But thanks to the finesse training they'd traced off of the half-elf, their attacks could actually hit and do some damage.

Almost miraculously, Garnet and Iko held off the charging goblins while Red knocked out the cougar, tracing its scent-tracking ability. He joined them to finish off the rest of the goblins in no time.

Iko levelled up to 3, gaining health and improved initiative, as well as better Fort, Ref, and Will saves. But Red was wounded, slashed and bitten by that cougar.

"Maybe we should turn back," said Garnet.

"I...Red? I'm so sorry you got hurt," said Iko.

He shook his head stubbornly. "We've gotten this far. If we see another cougar, we should run, but if it's only goblins after this, we should keep going at least to report back to Ameko what we saw."

"I don't know how long these guys will stay knocked out," said Garnet. "If we keep going, only for one more hour. Then we turn back."

They made it to the end of the tunnel without any more attacks. It let out into the stone halls of Thistletop's dungeon. Although goblins could see in the dark, here hooded lanterns hung from the walls at regular intervals. Nua had to be here somewhere.

But as they rounded a corner of the hall, it was a goblin who greeted them with a blade of pure flame in one hand and a wand in the other. They barked a word of magic, and a carpet of entangling vines rose up to trap their feet. Four growling goblin dogs stalked out of the doors on either side of goblin druid.

"Oh my goddess, we're gonna die!" cried Iko.

"Shit!" the siblings cursed.

Just before the druid could set the dogs on them, two pairs of footsteps sounded from the hall behind. The students turned to see...not Ameko and Tsuto. 

There was a young Keleshite only 17 years old. They had warm brown skin, black, almond-shaped eyes and short, lustrous black hair. To the students' eyes, they were beautiful enough to be Nua.

The Keleshite was accompanied by a Varisian man in his early 20s. He had olive skin, dark brown hair, and steely hazel eyes. He was ruggedly handsome but grim and unsmiling. Neither bore the burn mark from the Skinsaw Men, suggesting they were mercenaries Nua had hired rather than cultists.

"What are you kids doing here?" asked the man.

"Intruders," hissed the druid.

"Nua's not going to like this," said the Keleshite, outing themself as not-Nua. "Orik, maybe we should just let them go the way they came."

Orik's eyes narrowed as he regarded the three. "How DID you get here?"

"Through the tunnel!" hissed the druid before any of them could speak.

"We-we were out playing in the Nettlewood when we found a cool tunnel to crawl in," said Red.

"Lies! There were ten goblins and my cougar in there!"

"Are-are you sure? It was really dark, so we didn't see that," lied Iko, even less convincingly.

But the Keleshite raised their eyebrow. "Three unarmed children made it past a goblin squad and a cougar?"

"Yeah, no way," said Garnet. "But we should really be getting home soon. Our parents will come looking for us."

"Truth be told, you're safer here," said Orik. "Midnight is not going to be pleasant for your little town, but if you're as skilled as the druid claims, you could have a place with us here. Rana, you and the druid take them to a cell for now. I'll go inform Nua."

The three shared a look--bad and worse! Nua was going to destroy Sandpoint tonight. Wounded and scared as they were, they couldn't afford to be captured now. With adrenaline pumping through their veins, they stayed alert for even the smallest chance of escape.

As Orik left to tell Nua, the druid called off the goblin dogs. Then released the three from their entangling spell.

"Come with me," said Rana, taking the lead with the goblin at the rear.

The students followed, but as soon as they were out of earshot of the dogs, they gave each other the slightest nods. Garnet took up a hushed war chant. Red and Iko spun and attacked the druid.

"Rana!" they shrieked, desperately defending themself--they were a caster type, not a martial type. But under the flurry of blows, they couldn't even concentrate enough to cast.

"Stop! Don't make me burn you!" yelled Rana, their hands raised for spellcasting as well.

"Please don't burn us--we're just kids!" chanted Garnet as Red and Iko knocked out the druid.

Garnet and Red leveled up, boosting their health. They gained a feat called dodge as well, making them slightly harder to hit.

"Stand down!" Their voice and hands wavered, however.

"We don't want to fight you," said Iko. "We just want to save our town. Please, you know what Nua's doing is wrong."

"Just let us talk to her," said Red.

Rana dropped their hands. They couldn't burn these earnest, innocent kids. "She...isn't likely to listen."

"We have to try," said Garnet. "Can you take us to her?"

"I...fine. Stay close." The older teen led them deep down through the dungeon levels in the direction that Orik had gone. They stopped at a pair of stone doors carved with horrific depictions of monsters clawing their way out of pregnant bellies.

Rana spoke a word of magic to open the heavy doors without straining themself. Within was a long, dark chapel lined by stone fonts and pillars. The altar platform was lit by hanging brazier that emitted glowing red smoke.itted glowing red smoke. The dull crimson light threw bas-relief carvings of monsters feasting on fleeing humanoids into lurid display. Over the black marble altar itself squatted a 10ft statue of a pregnant goddess with a kukri in each taloned hand. She had a long reptilian tail, bird-like feet, and the snarling head of a three-eyed jackal with a forked tongue.

Speaking in low voices in front of the altar platform were Orik and an 18-year-old Varisian aasimar who could only be Nua. She had olive brown skin but solid black eyes and thick, snow-white hair that floated around her shoulders with a life of its own. Nothing Ameko had described could have prepared the three for her eerily stunning beauty. She was lovely, yes, but in a strange and terrifying way that made them want to avert their eyes and run far from her gaze. And like Tsuto, a spiky glyph had been burned onto her forehead.

The two fell silent at the sight of Rana with the students. Nua’s eyes narrowed to black slits in a devastating frown that felt as sharp as a physical blow. “Rana, why are there children in the unholy chapel of Lamashtu?”

“They, ah, ahem, they wished to speak with you,” they replied, shrinking back toward the doorway while pushing the three in front of themself like a human shield.

“Um, yes,” squeaked Iko. “We have to talk about Sandpoint.”

“You can’t destroy it!” said Red, his voice far too loud to his own ears.

“We-we’ll stop you if you try,” said Garnet.

Nua threw back her head with a laugh that seemed to cut the legs out from under them. “Orik was right, you ARE precocious. I suppose that means you won’t be persuaded to join my merry little band?”

“Of murderers--no way!” said Garnet.

“Rana was right,” said Iko, keeping her voice low for her friend’s ears only. “We can’t talk to her.”

Red steeled his face and shifted into a fighting stance. “Then we take her down and go warn Ameko.”

His voice must’ve really been too loud, because the aasimar’s amused expression only deepened. “You’re welcome to try. Orik, Rana, dispose of them.”

Rana’s eyes met Orik’s. The two froze, their gaze flicking from Nua to the children and back. They’d been hired for protection, not for killing children with their own hands.

“I...can’t,” said Rana.

“Sorry, Nua, but my payment didn’t cover child-murder,” said Orik.

“Then die with them!”


	5. Chapter 5

Nua called down two emaciated, hairless canines from the shadows of the chapel ceiling. These 4ft tall yeth hounds flew down at Orik and Rana, biting and snarling. Meanwhile, the aasimar cast protective magic over herself.

Garnet chanted, Red and Iko running into the unholy chapel to attack Nua. Red landed his kicks, but she struck back with a vicious, supernaturally clawed hand and drew her bastard sword. Her eyes blazed with wrath as she slashed at both children with her blade.

Red dodged. Iko screamed as Nua cut her. The girl fell back in terror, clutching her bleeding arm. But Garnet, keeping up her chant, stepped up to take her place.

Unfortunately, Nua realized at once that Garnet was more a distraction than a threat. She concentrated her attacks on Red, slowly slicing away his hit points. In desperation, Garnet threw herself at the aasimar's legs, attempting to grapple them like the druid's vines.

"Get off!" Nua roared. She freed one leg for a vicious kick at Garnet's head, followed by a razor-sharp swipe of her claw. Leaving herself open to attack.

"Garnet!" Red landed a nasty chomp on Nua's sword arm, followed by two lightning-quick blows to her head. The bloodied blade clattered to the floor, followed by the unconscious aasimar. Ignoring Nua for now, he rushed to his sibling's side. "Are you ok?"

"Fine, fine," said Garnet, climbing to her feet. "Iko?"

Iko nodded, too shocked to speak. She'd leveled up and received more health. Not only that, but her arm had healed to little more than a scratch.

The three turned their eyes on the yeth hounds. Orik was holding his own with his sword, but Rana was doing everything they could just to defend themself from that sinister bite.

[Trace activated]

[Ability traced: natural armor, your natural armor has improved]

The three students descended on Rana's yeth hound in a kicking, punching fury. The demonic canine dropped, shortly followed by its mate hounding Orik.

"The druid wasn't kidding about you kids," remarked Orik.

"Heheh, thanks," Red grinned proudly.

"So...did we stop Nua?" asked Iko, glancing at the knocked out aasimar.

Rana shook their head. "She already summoned the barghest. It's going to reach full strength at midnight."

"What's a barghest and how do we stop it?" asked Garnet.

"Imagine a demonic goblin dog the size of a horse who can make itself indefinitely invisible," said Orik.

"That sounds...bad," said Red, still nursing his wounds.

"Not one of us could stand a chance against it alone, but we might be able to stop it together," said Rana. "I can cast see invisibility on myself and hit it with my wand of magic missiles. Aim where I do."

"We can also use these." Orik crouched beside Nua and took a small leather pack off her person. He opened it to reveal several healing potions.

Red grinned. Garnet and Iko nodded resolutely. They could do this.

Before leaving the chapel, Orik grabbed one more item off his former boss--a medallion on a leather cord, the silver disc inscribed with a 7-pointed star. Then he and Rana led the students even deeper into the very bowels of the dungeon. They stopped before a pair of stone doors without handles. They were unornamented except for a slight, circular indent bearing the indent of the same 7-pointed star.

Rana quickly cast a few spells on themself. When the wizard had fully buffed, they nodded at their fellow mercenary.

Orik placed the medallion into the indent. After a few breathless moments, the doors swung open. A 10ft-wide, 10ft-deep pit of flickering fire filled the room with a humid heat and the smell of burning hair. In the corners of the far wall, wooden risers each held several dozen golden candles that burned without melting. Though he and the kids could see no creatures within, they could sense an evil presence here so strong that it seemed to bar the doorway.

Rana drew their wand of magic missiles. “Protect me.”

They fired. The missile of magic energy exploded against the invisible barghest levitating over the firepit. The beast roared, shaking the unquenchable flames in the room.

Orik stood before Rana with his bastard sword drawn. As the pressure of the evil presence increased, he swung, drawing blood and another roar. Red and Iko aimed their kicks in that direction. Garnet chanted from the back with Rana, but looked for an opening to attack as well.

Orik cried out in pain. Blood flew from his shoulder and chinks in his armor, painting large, knife-like fangs and teeth red. But he kept swinging. The others attacked as best they could, but they were barely whittling down the demonic canine's health.

And the barghest was canny. Instead of continuing to focus on Orik, it went after the weakest link to break morale. Knife-like fangs and teeth drenched in red tore through Iko's defenses. 

She screamed and collapsed. As the lifeblood drained from her the sounds of battle and screams of others faded from her ears. Her vision blurred the scene into a kaleidoscope of garish color.

Then a slim but strong and familiar hand pulled her away from the dulling riot. She knew that outline over her, the one pushing a potion into her hands and stepping up to take her place. Uncle Tsuto!

"Garnet, move--nobody touches my daughter you invisible bitch!" roared Ameko, lunging with a deadly mithral rapier.

The older student fell back with relief. She kept up her song, but focused on tending to her friend. Moments after helping her to drink the healing potion, Iko’s wounds began to close.

Meanwhile, Ameko, Tsuto, Orik, Rana, and Red combined their damage and beat the invisible barghest back into the firepit room. Suddenly, its invisibility winked out. The light dulled from the demonic, goblinoid dog’s eyes. Its large, levitating body crashed down into the flames, slowly catching fire.

[Ability traced]

[Level up]

“What the…?” said Ameko, Tsuto, Orik, and Rana.

Garnet, Red, and even Iko managed a weak laugh. Of course the Lantern King, god of pranks and mischief, had a good sense of humor. Now, they were all gamers.

Red had traced the barghest’s bite, improving the damage on his own bite attack. Garnet, Iko, and now Rana had traced its spell-like levitation ability. Ameko, Tsuto, and Orik had traced its spell-like invisibility sphere ability.

"Alright, explain it to us later," said Ameko. "Where's Nua?"

"We left her in the chapel," said Orik.

Tsuto shook his head. "That was the first place we checked."

Rana shrugged wearily. "Then she's gone. I guess we can only consider ourselves lucky she didn't command the entire goblin tribe overhead to come down here and wipe us out."

"We could've taken them together," said Red. "I bet she knew that."

"Do you think she'll come back and try to summon the barghest again?" asked Garnet.

"The barghest bound to this place is dead," said Rana. "She'd need an entirely new plan."

"This was a costly failure," said Tsuto. "She'll have lost the support of the Skinsaw Men."

Orik nodded in agreement. "She's better off never showing her face in the Magnimar city-state ever again--for her own safety."

"Right, that's settled then," said Ameko, throwing an arm around her daughter's shoulders. "Why don't we all head back to my tavern, and Bethin can whip us up a midnight feast?"

At her suggestion, a weight lifted from the students' shoulders. Giddy and free with relief, they couldn't stop rehashing the events of the day as the group made their way back to Sandpoint. They did manage to squeeze in Father Zantus' spiel about the Lantern King in between their favorite parts of the fights.

After the wild day and feasting night, the whole lot of them slept in the next morning. When they did finally wake, it was afternoon and the Rusty Dragon was back up and running as a tavern. At Ameko's suggestion, Iko took her friends, Orik, and Rana for a tour of the little town of Sandpoint. A genuinely ancient lighthouse was the only real monument on the tour, the rest being a slew of local gossip as they passed the relevant homes and shops.

It was far more juicy tidbits than Garnet and Red could ever remember even if they wanted to. Fortunately, Iko ended the tour by taking them down to the small strip of gravelly gray beach. It was no paradise, but Orik, Rana, and the students were able to have one carefree day of solid relaxation before heading out tomorrow at the week's end.

They said their goodbyes that night, sitting around the tavern hearth with mugs of warm chocolate in their hands--a first for everyone but the Kaijitsus. Most of the locals had gone home by then, leaving only the small party wrapped in cozy quilts and blankets against the autumn chill.

"Where will you guys go?" asked Red. Beset by Apollyon’s Plague, Magnimar the big city and most obvious choice for a couple of mercenaries was out of the question.

“I’m thinking somewhere warmer,” said Orik. “I have a brother who lives in Korvosa, a twin.”

Korvosa was the largest city in the nation and rival to Magnimar’s claim of most powerful city-state. Once the capital of Chelish-held Varisia, its proximity to the southern, Infernal Empire of Cheliax and long-standing ties had given rise to its pejorative nickname, ‘Little Cheliax.’ Like Magnimar, it was another port city yet had escaped the deadly plague--for now.

“Perhaps I could head there with you,” said Rana. “It’s been years since I last saw my home country, Katapesh. I need a ship, though, and there are no direct voyages from Sandpoint.”

Not only was Katapesh all the way across the Inner Sea, but it was located on the northeastern part of the continent south of Avistan, Garund. Garnet and Red knew little of the country outside of fantastical stories set in its deserts, savannahs, and Brazen Peaks. It’s capital city of Katapesh supposedly held the greatest open market in all the world.

"What about you, Uncle Tsuto?" asked Iko, taking a long drag of her chocolate.

"Obviously, I'm going to hunt down Nua, and then we'll return together to Magnimar to wreck our bloody vengeance against the Skinsaw Men."

The group fell silent. Finally, Garnet spoke. "You can't be serious."

Ameko whacked her little brother's shoulder with a cleaning rag as she passed the group. He laughed, drawing uneasy laughs from the rest of them.

"Of course he's not serious," said Ameko, rolling her eyes. "He's staying here in Sandpoint--at least until we work out what to do with the Glassworks and the rest of Grandpa's estate."

Right. Of course. Because Iko's grandfather was dead...because Tsuto had murdered him and then burned his body in his own glassworking furnace. The siblings couldn't help feeling it was extremely lucky for him that Ameko hadn't been fond of her old man.


	6. Chapter 6

"Come back and visit when you can," said Ameko after a hearty breakfast of porridge, bacon, and fresh goat's milk.

"I packed you some snacks for the road," added Bethin.

"Thanks Mom, thanks Bethin." Iko hugged them both.

"Thanks!" said Garnet and Red. They paused, unsure of whether to hug the two or not, but the decision was made for them--Ameko giving them a big bear hug together and Bethin clasping their arms fondly.

The three set off for the academy on foot. The journey was twice as long without a carriage, but thankfully uneventful. When they got back, a member of the cleaning staff informed the siblings that their room had been prepared in the dormitory. Garnet, Red, and Iko went at once to check it out.

The siblings gaped. It was twice as large as the traveler's room at the tavern. The windows were wide and curtained. They had separate beds, desks, and dressers on opposite sides of an old but finely crafted carpet. The desks were full of school supplies--folders, notebooks, pens, and pencils even though they could neither read nor write. The dressers were full of clothes, but only several changes of the uniform and essentials like socks and underwear.

There were bookshelves, too. These were empty, but Iko promised they'd fill up fast after the placement exam determined their classes this fall. "Although, I don't know how you guys are gonna be able to do the written portion."

"Maybe they could just ask us the questions," said Red.

"Uh...it's like reading comprehension and stuff. But don't worry, I practically failed that part too, and it didn't hurt me," the F-ranked student assured them.

"What else is on the exam?" asked Garnet.

It was equally split between an academic portion and a practical, combat portion. After all, this world of Golarion was populated by more monsters than any other humanoid race. There was no sense in crafting the finest minds of the generation if they died as soon as they set foot outside the door.

"I guess we'll just have to fail the academic part," said Red.

"But we might be able to study up for the combat part with the trace ability," said Garnet.

Iko's eyes widened. "Holy North Star, you're right! There aren't any classes during the weekend, but there are tons of extracurriculars and people using the training areas."

The siblings hurriedly changed into their new uniforms and went off to different areas of the campus to 'study.' Red headed to the martial programs building. Garnet and Iko went off to the arcane programs building. The campus also had programs that offered a mixture of martial and arcane study, but these students simply had to travel back and forth between buildings, not even counting those used for the academic courses.

Red observed combatants from windows or the open air walkways around the training arena. He picked up a brawler's unarmed strike, increasing his damage. Watching a fighter move in their armor got him some armor training. A barbarian's reaction time taught him how to pull off an uncanny dodge from a flat-footed start.

Garnet and Iko traced a slumber-inducing hex off a witch. From an arcanist, they learned how to unleash a potentially deafening sonic blast at one target. Observing an abjurer taught them how to create a protective ward to boost the AC of themselves and nearby allies.

It was all they could gather before the bell tolled for supper. The siblings automatically walked with Iko toward the F-rank section when Ader recognized them in their new uniforms. They waved to Garnet and Red from the E-rank section.

"Ader!" Red waved back, balancing a heavily loaded tray on a single hand.

Iko froze, looking between their table and her usual one. 

Garnet nudged her elbow amiably. "That's our friend Ader. Let's go over and tell them what went down this weekend."

"Um, ok. Sure. I didn't know you two knew them."

"You're friends with Ader, too?" asked Red.

"Not friends really, but we had to go to a lot of the same events growing up. Not many noble families in Sandpoint."

Ah, so the Foxgloves and Kaijitsus really were nobles. Ameko and Iko didn't really seem like it--they obviously came from money, but they didn't put on airs. Maybe it had something to do with the bad relations they had to the recently murdered head of the family.

"Garnet, Red, I'm so glad to see you're in uniform! So you're students now?" asked Ader, welcoming them to the table. "Iko, good to see you as well."

"Almost," said Garnet. "We're taking the placement exam tomorrow."

"Oh, Lady Luck be with you, but you're sure to do better than I did. Have you thought about what class program you want to enter?"

"Something pure martial for me," said Red. He loved the physicality of fighting. There was nothing like hitting an enemy and feeling that impact.

"What about you, Garnet?"

“Maybe a combination.” She’d felt pretty useless in the last few fights, and there wouldn’t always be other people around to rely on. “I don’t think I want to get too close any weapons, but maybe using magic and having a ranged weapon would be nice.”

“Ah, then you should consider the magus program.”

“What program are you in?” asked Red.

“The rogue program,” Ader replied.

“Me, too,” said Iko. “But if you don’t like your program, you can always change the next semester.”

It was a comforting thought, especially with only one night to get the down-low on every potential program the academy had to offer before the exam. Fortunately, Iko and Ader were more than happy to lay it all out for the siblings. The four made an all-nighter out of it in Garnet and Red’s new dorm room. By the time their friends left, it was already the early hours of the morning of the exam.

Garnet and Red didn’t bother changing their clothes. They jumped into their beds and got what little sleep they could, fear and excitement snatching most of it. Their dark-ringed eyes snapped open the second the students’ morning bell tolled to wake them. It was time.

Garnet and Red sat outside the admin office to wait. They were picked up by one of the professors proctoring the exam and taken to a classroom empty save for two desks. Each desk had an ominously thick exam pamphlet and pencils on it.

"Take a seat at either desk," said the proctor. "When I start the clock, you may open your pamphlets."

"Excuse me," said Garnet, "but we can't read."

"That's unfortunate, but according to school policy, I'm required to give you four hours to take this exam."

Red threw up his hands "That's so dumb! What are we gonna do for four hours?"

The proctor raised an eyebrow. "I don't normally suggest this, but there's nothing to stop you from taking a nap. So long as you remain in this room and refrain from doing anything I might have to construe as 'cheating,' your time is yours. Now, the sooner you sit, the sooner the written exam will be over."

So the siblings sat. Red managed to take a nap. Garnet couldn't. Between the uncomfortable position, nerves, and the endless abyss of the clock, she gave up on even attempting to nap and just started drawing on each page of the exam pamphlet. It was all she could do to keep from entering a full-on panic attack and trying to tear the room apart--which the proctor would definitely have 'construed as cheating.'

A third of the way through the pamphlet, the proctor’s timer went off. Garnet and Red bolted upright in their seats. Finally, FINALLY, the torture had ended.

The proctor collected their pamphlets and explained the next portion of the exam, the combat practical. The siblings would be taken to separate training chambers. Outside each was a rack of weapons and armor prepared by the school for their use if they so chose. A professor in an adjoining room would conjure a monster for them to fight. If they defeated the monster, a stronger one would be summoned. If at any point it appeared that they could no longer handle a fight, the current monster would be dismissed and the exam would end.

“Any questions?”

The siblings were far too excited for this real test of their power to bother even considering a question.

“Very well. Follow me.”

Red and Garnet were led to their separate training rooms. Red grabbed some field plate armor. It offered a lot of protection but wouldn’t impede his movement. He glanced at the weapons but was more interested in using his own two fists and feet. Garnet, who had absolutely no weapon or armor training, went straight to her training room.

The floor and walls were stone and along one wall stretched a strange mirror--there was something definitely off about it, likely magic. A few breaths after the door shut behind them, a summoning circle appeared on the floor at the opposite end of the rectangular room.

The first monster was a celestial dire rat. Red knocked it out in a single punch. Garnet levitated out of its reach and opened her mouth. She unleashed her new sonic blast, obliterating the monster back into conjuration magic.

The next creature was a celestial pony. Red felt kinda bad for doing it, but he punched its lights out before it could land a single hoof kick. Garnet, still out of reach overhead, took it out with another blast. Both siblings traced its celestial resistance 5 against acid, cold, and electricity damage.

Next up was a celestial goblin dog, which they’d faced before without the celestially summoned part. They took it down with ease, grabbing its immunity to disease in the process.

The next monster, however, was more formidable. It was a 5ft-long celestial boar. Red couldn’t knock it out in a single hit but did manage the task in one flurry of blows. Since it couldn’t fly, Garnet remained safe from its vicious gore attack. She ended the fight in two sonic blasts.

Then came the dire wolf. It was the size of a horse, its fangs as large and sharp as knives. Red, thankfully, was faster than the celestial predator. He took it out with all three of his flurried blows and a vicious bite of his own. Garnet just kept blasting until it was obliterated, which only took three shots.

It was followed by a celestial boar the size of a horse. The dire boar managed to get in a goring charge at Red, but its terrifyingly large tusks glanced off his field plate. He took it down in his second flurry. Garnet was content to stick with her current strategy against the land-bound monster. Both of their natural armors improved by facing it.

Then a 16ft creature of cloud with dark hollows for eyes and a mouth was summoned into the chambers. An innate, howling wind whipped the large air elemental into a living whirlwind. Red and Garnet screamed as they were sucked into the whirling vortex. In one spin, they were slammed twice by its powerful winds.

That encounter spelled the end of their practicals. They simply couldn't dish out enough damage to take out the elemental before it ended them. The professors dismissed their monsters and the siblings emerged from the rooms woozy, battered, but alive.

Garnet nodded at her sibling. "How far'd you get?"

"Air elemental."

"Same, nice."

"H-how'd we do?" Red asked the first exam proctor also out in the hall.

"Even if I knew, I wouldn't be at liberty to say. Your results from both exams will be reviewed by Headmaster Sedona. I'd advise resting now and getting something to eat. Don't fret about your results--there's nothing to be done about them now. You'll be called to the head's office to discuss your placement sometime this afternoon."

Tired as they were, the siblings met up with Iko and Ader for lunch. They couldn't help their own excitement when the two students told them that they hadn't made it anywhere near an air elemental. And of course, their friends were just as excited for them.

After Iko and Ader left the cafeteria for class, Garnet and Red headed back to their dorm. As excited as they were, their sleep-deprived and banged up bodies crashed as soon as they hit the sack.

Knock, knock! The siblings awakened groggily at first, the orange light of late afternoon filling their rooms. Then their memory snapped back into shape. They jumped out of their beds, combing fingers through their hair and straightening their uniforms as they scrambled to the door.

It was that self-same exam proctor. "Please follow me to the head's office. You'll be seen individually, so you might want to decide who will go first on the way."

They couldn't decide, so they entered a thumb war while walking across the campus. Although Garnet's thumbs were longer, Red's were physically stronger. As the winner, he decided to go first.

The elf headmaster still loomed overhead despite being seated behind his desk. There was a file beneath his long, steepled fingers--presumably Red’s exam results.

“Please, take a seat,” said Sedona.

Red sat, far more nervously than he’d anticipated. His palms were sweaty and butterflies fluttered in his stomach. He tried grinning to take the edge off but only felt an uncomfortable stretching of his mouth over tightly clenched teeth.

“The academic portion of your exam was a complete failure. This semester, you’re to be placed in remedial reading, writing, and arithmetic courses on par with those given to any six-year-old child of your species.”

“Oh. Right.” Dang, the headmaster really did not mince words. Red knew it was all true, but it still hurt to hear it so plainly.

“However, you’ve shown C-rank potential in combat. Therefore, you will be grouped with the other C-ranked students for your class program courses. All that is left is for you to tell me which program you’d like to enter this semester. Your courses will be arranged and you may begin your term at Turandarok tomorrow.”

“Oh, wow! Ok, then I want to be a brawler!”

He’d done his research with Iko and Ader, and the brawler class sounded exactly like what he was looking for. Instead of relying on weapons and armor, a brawler turned their own body into a weapon. They focused on training in many styles of unarmed combat to become versatile, agile, and able to adapt to any enemy’s attacks.

"Very well. You'll be entered into the brawler program. Congratulations on your placement. I hope your first semester with us will be a productive one. Welcome to Turandarok."

Red might've gone in anxiously, but he came out skipping on the balls of his feet. He gave Garnet a great big grin and reassuring pat on the arm. "Your turn!"

Like her sibling, Garnet was placed in remedial academics but evaluated at C-rank combat potential. She went in a blank slate and came out an eldritch archer in the magus program. There was a bright future on the horizon for the two gamer siblings of Magnimar.


	7. Book 2, Mercenaries

Korvosa, the Jewel of Varisia, had long sparkled on Varisia’s southern shore. After the Chelish expulsion, Korvosan rulers sat upon its Crimson Throne for more than a century, and the city had flourished. Yet the monarchy always seemed on the brink of disaster. Many nobles and commoners alike counted the days until the current ruler, Eodred II, fell to what they called the Curse of the Crimson Throne.

To the rich elite, he was known as the Saffron King for lining their coffers with gold so that they might feast in abundance with spices, milk, and honey. To the poor majority, he was known as the Stirge King for bleeding them and the resources of their city-state dry. The old man was reputedly on death's door, but he had produced no heirs, meaning the crown could only turn over to his equally vile queen, Ilesa.

In his late 50s, Eodred had scandalized all of Korvosan by wedding the 20-year-old Chelaxian noblewoman. Everyone knew that if he died without an heir, this Chelish pawn of a bride would undoubtedly bring the city-state back into the clutches of the Infernal Empire. Then Ilesa had scandalized the city by giving birth...all to tiefling bastards with her long series of lovers.

The king had every male child killed to prevent some Hellspawn tiefling from ever taking the Korvosan throne. The others were cast out onto the streets once they reached twelve years of age--out of sight, out of mind. So it went for the past 25 years of their marriage.

The elderly and ailing Eodred had spent the last several weeks secluded in Castle Korvosa. The now middle-aged Ilesa had thus stepped up to rule 'temporarily' in his stead. Rumor had it that she was once again pregnant thanks to her newest lover. The city was poised on a knife's edge of unrest and revolt.

How were the young mercenaries Orik and Rana to know they had picked such a fraught time to arrive on the Korvosan doorstep? The tavernkeep in need of business surely said nothing about it to the Varisian and his Keleshite traveling companion. They had even given Rana directions to the docks with semi-convincing laughs, smiles, and merriment. Of course there would be a ticket available to a sea-voyage to Katapesh. There was absolutely no chance of the dockworkers going on strike and stranding all ships at port in days, possibly hours.

Orik and Rana raised their eyebrows at the tavernkeep’s strained humor but took their room and directions with thanks. While Rana left to purchase the ticket to their home country, Orik stayed to order drinks and a meal for both of them. It’d been a long trip from the little town of Sandpoint by foot. He needed a day of rest before trying to search Varisia’s largest city for his twin brother Verik.

Before the food could arrive, a thunderous cacophony jolted him back onto his aching feet. Alarum bells clanged. Steel clashed against steel. Screams, moans, and even the periodic detonation of arcane power filled the air.

Orik ran to the window alongside the other tavern patrons. Korvosa was in flames. A curtain of black smoke plumed on the horizon. A wing of griffon riders swooped overhead at breakneck pace. One badly wounded mount rained blood down on the street. It crashed headlong into a statue, taking out its rider and itself in a bone-crunching demise.

Amid the chaos, the voice of a Korvosan herald cut through the din: “The king is dead! Long live the queen!”

They were shouted down by the local patrons’ angry cries of “Hang the queen!” and “The usurper devil must die!” The patrons ran out into the street where a contingent of Hellknights clad in dark iron armor and horned helms attacked a small gang of looters. The locals defended their own against the queen’s imported Chelaxian oppressors.

"I...take it your queen is unpopular?" said Orik to the tavernkeep.

"Ah-haha, well, she's a Chelaxian now ruling a free Varisian city-state, ha-ahaha-ha…"

No, yeah, that checked out. Varisians and Shoantis both hated a Chelish colonizer.

Rana discovered a similar sentiment at the port. A mob of dockworkers had surrounded, well, not a Chelaxian but perhaps the next most hated person of the moment, a devil-spawn tiefling. The infernally-blooded 19-year-old had ghastly pale skin, solid gold eyes, and hair as black as the River Styx. Two black, curling, goat-like horns crowned their head.

The mob's jeering harassment escalated to violence in minutes. Someone threw a rock, and then they were all throwing. It was completely vile.

The disgusted evoker used their burning hands to light a barrel on fire. They kicked it at the crowd, who parted with cries of alarm.

“Get away from the tiefling, or I’ll burn more than a few fish next time,” Rana threatened coldly.

“Mind your own business, Keleshite!”

“You know nothing of Korvosan matters! This here’s the usurper queen’s own bastard child!”

These thick-skulled fools were just not going to listen to common decency. Without batting an eye, Rana cast flurry of snowballs into the mob, pelting them with hard-packed snow until they ran off.

The cowering tiefling straightened up, cautiously meeting the evoker’s eyes. “Thank you...for saving me.”

“Don’t mention it, but perhaps you should come with me before those fools come back. My friend, Orik, and I have a room at a tavern. My name’s Rana. You could stay with us until this chaos dies down.”

“I--thank you, but I--I have younger siblings. They’re tieflings like me. I have to get to them before someone else does.”

“Do you need help?”

The slightly older teen blinked back tears at the unexpected offer. Even Rana wasn’t sure why they’d felt compelled to offer. Perhaps their encounter with those kids back in Sandpoint had been more life-altering than they’d expected.

“Yeah, yeah, I’d really appreciate it. My-my name’s Trisaor.”

Thus, Rana showed back up at the tavern along with Trisaor. They quickly explained the situation to Orik. He raised his eyebrows upon learning the Keleshite had offered both their services to this woe-begotten tiefling who obviously couldn’t afford even one of them.

The evoker shrugged. “The entire port’s on strike. There won’t be a ship out to Katapesh for at least a week. We might as well do something, and perhaps you’ll stumble upon someone who’s seen your brother.”

True enough. “Alright Trisaor, we’re at your service. Where to first?”

The tiefling lived in one of the city’s many slums, the Shingles. Ramshackle buildings were so dense here that at ground level, direct sunlight was a rarity. Above, jury-rigged catwalks, overhanging roofs, lines of laundry, and homemade bridges of rope and boards created a cluttered tangle--the multi-level mess of gutters, upper floors, and rooftops that Trisaor called home.

They and their three half-siblings lived in an old, three-story tenement containing two dozen cramped, tightly-packed flats. As the tiefling brought the mercenaries up the stairwell toward the top floor, an elderly halfling woman scurried out the door of her own flat, her face painted with concern.

“Oh, Trisaor, Trisaor, dear--they took them! They took the children!”

Neither Orik nor Rana thought it possible, but the tiefling grew even paler as the blood drained from their face.

“Who? Who took them? Took them where?” they asked, voice trembling.

“I-I don’t know! There was a gnome and a half-orc with a big, mean dog--all stinking of rotten fish.”

Trisaor’s golden eyes hardened. They grit their teeth. “Gaedren. The old man runs a fishery, but it’s just a front for child labor and child trafficking.”

Orik put a reassuring hand on their shoulder. “He’s as good as dead. Where is he?”

Gaedren’s fishery was just east of the Shingles on the docks alongside the inland Jeggare River rather than the western seaboard. With riots in the streets and entire wards plunged into chaos, however, it took the three almost an hour to navigate there safely.

The reek of brine and the stink of week-dead fish hung thickly in the dusk air. The water-warped double doors in the side of the weathered fishery were tightly closed. A drooping signpost hung above. The sign it once displayed was long gone, leaving behind only a short length of rusted chain.

“I can see why he’d hide out here,” Rana remarked in a hushed voice, waving a hand in front of their nose. No way any of the city watch would ever want to come investigate a reeking wreck like this.

“If you think this is bad, don’t ever try a ‘dock-dumpling,’” muttered Trisaor.

“I...don’t even want to know what that is,” said Orik, drawing his bastard sword.

“Wait, what’s the plan?” asked the tiefling.

“We go in, hands blazing,” said the evoker. “You can just hang back here.”

“No, no--I can help, but wouldn’t it be better to go in quietly?”

Orik quirked his brow. “And kill the old man in his sleep?”

“Oh...ok. I guess that is better.” Trisaor drew their dagger.

Rana nodded at their fellow mercenary. Orik stalked up to the entrance and landed a hinge-rattling kick against the doors. Which immediately set the guard dog barking from inside. A couple lanterns flared from the windows as they were lit.

The doors shuddered open. Out rushed a yammering, slavering dog, a gnome with a torch in one hand and a kukri in the other, and a half-orc with a flail. The mercenaries had to admit, the most intimidating thing about them was indeed their rotted-fish reek.

Trisaor lifted their voice into a wordless, bardic war chant. Orik swung his sword with magically-amplified force and accuracy. Rana blasted the group right in the face with burning hands.

These common low-lifes were no match for the mercs. They went down like a ship’s anchor. Orik and Rana both leveled up to gamer 3 and managed to trace the half-orc’s darkvision.

[Ability traced: finesse training, you can use your Dexterity to hit with light weapons if it is higher than your Strength]

Trisaor abruptly broke off their chant. “Woah! What the…?”

Orik and Rana shared a look. This Lantern King’s gamer thing caught on like the plague. The tiefling seemed like a good sort, but who knew what amoral people the mercs might unintentionally pass this onto.

“We’ll explain later,” said the Keleshite.

“You go find your siblings,” said Orik. “Leave the old man to us.”

As soon as the three entered, they were blasted in the face with the fishery’s ungodly stank. The floor was slick with seawater, bits of seaweed, and fish blood. They walked quickly but carefully up the rickety staircase to the catwalks that gave access to all corners of the fishery. Unfortunately, they also brought the three past immense, 10ft-tall vats where a gristly slurry of chum, seaweed, and who knew what else stewed in the open air. 

The mercs and the tiefling separated, each trying not to puke. Trisaor headed for the two dozen small hammocks hanging from under a section of catwalks--little hands and heads peeping up from under ratty blankets. Orik and Rana went in the direction of the lantern-light.

They entered a large, chilly room that stank of polluted river thanks to a huge opening in the floor that dropped away to the murky water 5ft below. Several wooden pilings supported the ceiling above, mossy ropes slung between them. In two places, rusty manacles hung menacing from the ropes over the river.

Two 5ft-wide walkways crossed the hole’s edge to the other side. There stood an elderly but snarling man with the lantern in one hand. The other pointed a hand crossbow at the mercenaries.

“What do you want? A child? Take your pick,” Gaedren spat.

“Let’s start with your dead body,” said Orik, setting foot on a walkway. Much to his surprise, a gods-damned alligator bellowed up from the murk and snapped at him. He swore and began hacking at the old man’s carnivorous pet.

Rana, unphased, sent a scorching ray of flame from their palm right into the geezer’s unapologetic mug. He, too, swore and fired his crossbow at them. With his bedclothes alight with fire, however, he flailed and missed his target.

That worked for the Keleshite. They cast a final scorching ray for the day to finish the child-trafficker off as a barbequed corpse. They even managed to pick up his (failed) evasion technique.

Orik dealt enough damage to the alligator to send it slinking back into the river. Before it left, he traced its considerable natural armor. He stalked over to the burning body and kicked it into the water after the alligator. One less child-exploiting scumbag on this earth--good riddance.


	8. Chapter 8

By the time Orik and Rana reunited with Trisaor on the catwalks, all the child laborers kidnapped off the streets had scampered out of the fishery to freedom. Except for one 12-year-old tiefling who looked exactly like a younger version of the elder tiefling. They greeted the mercs with a matching pair of somber and anxious faces.

“What? What’s wrong?” asked Orik.

Rana snapped their fingers. “‘Siblings,’ you said--there should be more of you.”

“Our sisters,” the little tiefling said in a wavering voice. “The old man already sold them.”

“Zelar here heard him work out the sales just before we got here,” Trisaor explained. “Venin was taken by Devargo’s people--I know OF him. Khaen was taken by derros working for somebody named Rolth, who I’ve never heard of.”

“We can work with what we know,” said Orik.

Rana jerked their head toward one of the rooms across the catwalk. “That looks like an office. Maybe Gaedren kept a record of sales. If you can give Orik directions to Devargo, we can stay here and search for any information on this Rolth.”

“Ok, ok, yeah,” said Trisaor. Maybe this could work. “Zelar, can you get home by yourself?”

“I can do it.”

“Ok. Once you get back to the Shingles, stay with old Fern until I’m back.”

“Got it.” The little tiefling gave their sibling a big hug, then ran the Hell out of that rancid chum factory too.

“So, Devargo, they call him the Spider King of Eel’s End. That’s the last pier in Old Korvosa.” 

Old Korvosa was an island-wide slum ward north of the main spit of land, connected by a series of bridges. Eel’s End was Devargo’s den of sex, drugs, and gambling. He operated from a warship moored to the pier. Other barges paid regular rent to the Spider King for the privilege of hosting said activities. Those who failed to pay or abide by his laws would find their ship cut loose in the middle of the night, often in flames or infested with deadly spiders.

“Huh,” said Orik. It sounded just like the kind of place he might find Verik. And certainly the kind to be at peak hours this time of night. “Right, so where should we rendez-vous after?”

“My place in the Shingles?”

Rana nodded and clasped their fellow mercenary’s arm. “Flames of the Everlight light your path.”

“We’re pawns of the Lantern King, now,” he said with a dry half-grin. “So I guess that’d be what, little dancing lanterns? A swarm of fireflies with a trace of fey intelligence?”

“Ha, Sarenrae must be so disappointed to lose such devout believers. Now get out of here before you disappoint our penniless new boss as well.”

With a fully-formed grin, Orik got out of that gods-forsaken fishery and made his way north. The chaos and riots appeared to have died down for the night although he could still make out the glow of fire on certain horizons. Once across the bridge to the northern island, Eel’s End turned out to be very easily spotted, marked by a sprawl of light and sound.

Glowing lanterns in the shape of dream spiders and god’s eyes hung from pilings or lampposts, flickering for all hours of the night. The sound of carousing boomed from the five elegantly painted ships moored to the long pier. Large signs painted in several languages hung from ropes between ships or nailed to pilings. 

The closest ship’s sign read, “The Twin Tigers—Take the Tiger by the Tail and Try Your Luck!” Opposite, a barge’s read, “Welcome to the Goldenhawk—No Safer Stay in Old Korvosa!” Further to the southeast was “Dragon’s Breath Corridor—Dream the Dragon’s Dreams at Affordable Prices!” Its opposing barge’s sign read, “House of Clouds—The Caress of Our Lovelies Will Take You Straight to Heaven!” 

Only the warship at the very end bore no signage at all. Aside from its painted name, ‘Eel’s End.’ Its figurehead was a coiling eel with a feminine face and coiling locks. Sailors, thugs, drunkards, sex workers, and even a few well-dressed nobles caroused on the pier and the decks of all five ships, seemingly oblivious to Korvosa’s recent troubles. Here and there, large bouncers in chainmail patrolled the connecting rope bridges and gangplanks, grim faces in a sea of revelry.

Orik fit right in with the rougher crowd. He made his way unaccosted to the main deck of the Eel’s End warship. A pair of large double doors bearing a complex painting of a spider formed the stern entrance. As soon as he approached, however, two patrolling, half-orc bouncers stepped between him and the door.

“Move along, punk. The Spider King doesn’t see anyone without an appointment.”

“He might want to make an exception. I’m one of Gaedren’s new guys. A package of the tiefling variety was recently purchased from the fishery, wasn’t it? Gaedren wanted to inform your boss that we may have just acquired two more, if he’s interested.”

The bouncers shared a look, and not the kind about to start a fight.

“Stay here,” said one. The half-orc disappeared inside the stern only to reappear moments later. “You are expected--go right in.”

“Thanks.” If this went smoothly, he’d definitely come back here and ask around the other four ships if anyone had seen someone who looked exactly like him.

Behind the doors, what had once been a captain’s cabin had been converted into a throne room of...sorts. The walls were thick with spiderwebs, in which scuttled dozens of spiders—some as large as a fist but most considerably smaller. Thankfully, the spiders seemed content to stay in their webs and didn’t venture all across the room itself, which was furnished with two sturdy oaken tables surrounded by chairs.

A narrow door stood to port, hanging slightly ajar. With his new darkvision, Orik picked out a flight of stairs leading below. Aft, a wooden stage flanked by two enforcers supported a large leather chair, itself covered with cobwebs and scampering spiders. A tall Varisian with close-cropped black hair and glacial blue eyes lounged in a sprawl upon the ‘throne.’

Despite the spiders occasionally scuttling across his olive skin, he never lost his smile. He wore black leather armor accented with a steel, spider-shaped baldric and chain linked together over his chest in the shape of a web. On his hands were gauntlets fixed with blades over the knuckles glistening with some toxin.

“Gaedren’s new man, are you? Tell me about this new find of his.”

Orik tried to be civil. He really did, for his brother’s sake, even. But there was just something about that child-purchasing spider-creep that really got under his skin. “Yeah, sure, I’ve got them right here.”

He held up two fists. And threw up two birds. If he had to go to spider hell, might as well take everyone else here with him.

Devargo's smile thinned. His enforcers exploded into a rage. They charged at Orik, screaming 'how dare you's. But in the time it took them to draw their short swords, the unimpressed merc cut them down with his bastard sword.

[Level up: gamer 4, your HP has increased by 9. Your accuracy has increased by 1. Your Strength has increased to 18]

"Do I have to do everything around here myself?" Devargo growled. He pulled a lever in the armrest of his throne.

A trap door opened under Orik's feet. He yelped and plummeted to the lower deck. Fortunately(?), the floor was a sticky, lumpy mass of webbing and dozens, if not hundreds, of bones. They broke his fall with a chorus of soft crunches.

The darkness was riddled with dizzying tunnels and twisting corridors formed by thick cobwebs. Some of the webs shimmered and danced as if reflecting rainbows in their silken forms. But what caught Orik's eye was a heavy wooden door bolted from the outside.

He picked his way as gingerly as he could over the floor lumps toward what was likely the ship's brig. Keeping a lookout for spiders, he reached into the webbing and unbolted the door with as much stealth as the rusty iron afforded. A 15-year-old tiefling huddled in brig's far corner. As she raised her horned head and shining gold eyes, there was no mistaking her family resemblance.

"Venin? I'm Orik. Trisaor sent me to get you out of here."

"Oh, thank gods." She stood and wiped her eyes. "Wait, did you kill the ettercap and their ogre spider?"

Nothing about 'ogre spider' sounded pleasant in the slightest. Orik had never even heard of an ettercap. He spun around in the doorway, drawing his sword in the same motion.

Oh, yep, good old darkvision. How could he have missed the towering spider the size of an elephant in the rafters with its leering, almost humanoid face? It was right up there with its purple humanoid buddy with the charming mug of a spider and sickle-shaped claws for hands.

Venin grabbed her face in her hands. “I’ve been rescued by an idiot.”

“A competent idiot,” Orik assured her without taking his eyes off either of the hideous abominations above. “Now which one of you spider-creeps wants to come down here first?”

Both fired web at him in answer. Thanks to his improved AC, however, the projectile strands glanced harmlessly off his toughened skin. The ettercap and spider hissed at their failure and came clambering down on their spikily-jointed limbs.

Orik went for the presumably more intelligent ettercap first. His bastard sword slashed right through their sickle-handed defenses.

[Ability traced: web]

“Come on, you’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“What the hell?” said Venin behind him.

That Lantern King, what a freaking jokester. “Tell you about it later!” Orik shouted, barely dodging the ogre spider’s venomous bite.

His sword lopped a chunk off its chitinous exoskeleton, but the spider was barely phased. Its mandibles came clacking down in a venom-dripping fury.

A bolt of web flew at the elephantine monster from around Orik’s shoulder. Venin’s projectile didn’t hit, but the spider did crouch out of the way. Bringing its ugly mug into stabbing range.

Orik roared and stabbed his bastard sword right into the monster’s eye. The ogre spider reeled back with an inhuman screech. The merc pressed his advantage and went slashing after it. He lopped off a leg, sending the spider into a hasty retreat up in its web.

[Level up]

[Ability traced: bite plus poison, an ogre spider’s venom deals 1d4 Strength and Dexterity damage for six rounds v. Fortitude]

“Not bad for an idiot, eh? Now come on, let’s get outta here.”

The trap door was closed up, but there was still the stairway that Orik had spotted from the throne room. After some searching, he and the tiefling made their way up. The door was still ajar and the throne room...strangely empty.

Neither Devargo nor half the spiders were here. In fact, there were a few squashed spiders on the floor. And the doors to the deck were open. Outside, workers and patrons aboard Eel’s End screamed and slapped at the spidery shapes scuttling up their clothes. Many threw themselves overboard.

“What the…?” muttered Orik.

“It’s cuz you killed the ettercap,” said Venin. “Devargo was just a normal human. They can’t control spiders--it was all the ettercap.”

“Huh.” He guessed that made sense.

“Thanks for back there. And I’m sorry for calling you an idiot.”

“Don’t sweat it. It’s one of the nicer names I’ve been called.”

Venin snorted a harsh laugh. “Yeah, same.”

Orik raised an eyebrow at the girl with uncommonly specific knowledge about ettercaps and spiders. “Somehow, I doubt people go around calling you an idiot.”

She raised an eyebrow back. “You’re weird for a mercenary. How’d Trisaor afford you, anyway?”

“I’m doing a little pro bono while I look for my brother. This is actually his kinda scene.”

“Well, the people on the other ships aren’t throwing themselves overboard yet. We could ask around for him. What’s he look like?”

Orik pointed at his face. “Like this, only with a lot more of this--” he pulled several exaggeratedly unflattering faces.

Venin laughed, genuinely, and slapped his arm. “Alright, alright, I got it, ya weirdo. Let’s go ask, and then you tell me about this ‘gamer’ business.”

“I’m chalking it up on your pro bono tab as we speak.”

With another laugh and shake of her head, the recently kidnapped but now more relaxed kid grabbed his hand and led him across the gangplank to the nearest barge.


	9. Chapter 9

It took Rana and Trisaor several hours to work through the fishery office’s intentionally and unintentionally obfuscated child-trafficking records, but when they learned what they could about Khaen’s sale, both agreed there was no chance in Hell they could wait until daylight to rescue her. Rolth was apparently an experimental necromancer who employed derros to manage his subterranean lairs. Derros, because the blue-skinned, 3ft humanoids naturally lived underground.

The derros that came for Khaen were caretakers of a subterranean laboratory in Potter’s Ward of the Gray District, Korvosa’s vast graveyard. Exactly where the lab was within the final resting ground of the city’s poor and homeless wasn’t mentioned, but Rana and Trisaor were determined to begin the search. If anything, they could at least rule out a few areas while waiting for Orik to return to the flat. He’d surely be in by first light at the latest, at which point they would go back themselves to switch shifts.

For now, they made haste to the one sector of the city quiet and calm in the face of its civil unrest. Though with the calm came an unnatural stillness in the air like the calm before a storm of new bodies arrived in search of rest. The ominous, oppressive quiet was nowhere more noticeable than in Potter’s Ward.

Mounds of unmarked dirt stretched far and wide, the only indication of sites of mass graves. Crumbling mausoleums long-ago abandoned by their families as the Gray District expanded west dotted the bleak landscape. There were no flowers or other trinkets left by mourners here, for the dead buried in Potter’s Ward left few behind to remember their passing.

The obvious candidates for a graveyard hideout were the mausoleums, especially one underground. With little vegetation but hardy weeds and brambles in this place, any simple hole in the ground would fill with mud and other buried things any time it rained. At the fourth mausoleum, Rana and Trisaor spotted a carelessly hidden trap door in its floor--and why not, without anyone who’d even want to stake a claim here?

They opened the door. The tunnels below were dimly lit by patches of groady, glowing mold that filled the chambers with a cold blue light. The walls were lined with skeletons caked into the mud--human mostly, but here and there smaller bones from halflings or children. On either side of one tunnel mouth were 15ft-square pits filled with huge heapings of hundreds of bones.

As Rana and Trisaor approached, the bone heaps rumbled and clacked to unlife. Six humanoid skeletons clawed their way out of one heap. A large, looming owlbear skeleton clawed out from the other.

“Cr-aaap!” the tiefling chanted into their war song.

“No kidding,” muttered the evoker, blasting fire at the humanoid skeletons in their way as they put distance between themself and the giant skeleton. 

Thankfully, most of the humanoids went down in clattering flames from the one burning hands spell. That owlbear, though, came charging with beak and skeletal claws. While Rana had its attention, though, they levitated up and out of reach.

“Stay down!” They cast their last scorching ray for the day while Trisaor finished off the final skeletons with their dagger.

[Level up]

[Ability traced: undead immunity to mind-affecting effects]

“Are you ok?” asked Rana, coming back down to the tunnel floor.

“Um, yeah, actually. I got clawed by a skeleton, but after that ‘level up’ thing it’s barely a scratch.”

“I think it has something to do with the health increase.”

“Pretty handy! And this ‘trace’ thing--are we really immune to mind-affecting magic and stuff?”

“Yeah.” Handy didn’t even begin to cover it.

Rana and Trisaor followed the tunnel without further incident past more bone-pit chambers they didn’t dare enter. Finally, however, they spotted wooden tables through a doorway. They were stacked with vials, beakers, and other alchemical gear. The two nodded and crept up for a closer look.

Three large cauldrons sat against one wall. One had upended, its foul, rancid continents of rendered fats having spilled on the floor. A derro with spiky white hair and a filthy, over-sized lab coat grumbled as they mopped up the mess.

Standing along the opposite wall was a grotesque amalgamation of dead parts. The foul-smelling pieces had been stitched together with thick black thread into the approximate shape of a lumbering humanoid. Only a few feet away was a cage, in which huddled a speechlessly terrified 14-year-old tiefling.

Rana and Trisaor retreated into the tunnel to hash out a plan of attack. They’d found Khaen but not Rolth. With Rana down to a few first level spells and their evoker's basic, force missile blasts, they were better off not facing the head necromancer anyway. In fact, they needed to act fast before the master and his other derro(s) returned.

“I hate to say it, Trisaor, but I’m gonna need you to handle the derro. Probably by yourself.”

“Wait, what are you gonna do?”

"Distract the Big Ugly long enough for you to get your sister and get out of there. It'd have to crawl to chase us through the tunnel, so once we're out of the lab, we're sure to outpace it."

"Couldn't we try to lure the derro out here then?"

"You wanna risk them ordering that thing to attack your caged up sister?" Rolth was a necromancer--dead was as good as alive.

"N-no. You're right." The tiefling took a deep breath. "Ready when you are."

"You go in first, get the jump on the derro."

"O-okay." Trisaor grit their teeth. With a resolute nod, they snuck up behind the derro and--

The derro turned around and shrieked in Undercommon. The stitched-together carrion golem let out a gurgling cry and lurched off the wall. Rana ran in blasting force missiles.

The tiefling chanted like a wild-eyed cultist as they stabbed at the derro with their dagger. Every time they ran to put casting distance between them, Trisaor hauled ass after them and went for another stab. Cornered in combat, the derro whipped out a wand of ghoul touch.

The wand's spell hit. Trisaor's song broke off as they were paralyzed and inundated with the nauseating stink of rotting flesh. The cut-up derro cackled darkly as they casted fly point themself and flew out of melee range. They tried casting blindness at Rana, but the evoker's managed a miraculous save.

“Trisaor! Snap out of it!”

But the tiefling physically couldn’t. And Rana couldn’t handle the carrion golem and the derro by themself. With no time to think, they made a desperate call. Rana cast their last burning hands at the alchemical tubes and pipeware on the table.

The derro let out a horrified screech. It was immediately drowned out by the explosion of glassware and volatile chemicals. Toxic yellow-green fumes billowed out through the lab. The derro flew the Hell out of there, coughing, sputtering, and shrieking curses in Undercommon.

The carrion golem charged, unphased, at Rana. They were forced to levitate out of the way. But by that time, the derro’s ghoul touch had worn off on Trisaor.

The tiefling ran to their sister. They unbolted the cage. Covering their noses and mouths with the fabric of their shirts, they ran out of the lab, followed by Rana and the lumbering golem.

“Go, go, go!” the Keleshite coughed at them from under their shirt.

They ran, but the golem kept pace, its fleshy mass deforming as it barreled down the tunnel. The siblings weren’t gonna be able to climb up to the trap door like this.

“Trisaor, we gotta take this golem out together!”

The tiefling broke into their war chant. They and the Keleshite skidded to a stop, Rana blasting with their force missiles.

The carrion golem roared and charged at the evoker. Rana levitated up. Trisaor was ready. They slashed their dagger through the thick black stitches in its back. Its flesh split, organs, meat, fluid, and bones spewed out through the flapping skin.

Trisaor leveled up to gamer 3. Now that the dust had settled, all three realized they’d received an ability trace notification. Trisaor and Khaen had both picked up the derro’s sneak attack. Rana had picked up their spell resistance.

“Uh, Tris, what does ‘ability traced’ mean?”

“Later,” panted the Keleshite.

“Yeah, let’s just get out of here first.”

The three staggered back to the tieflings’ flat to find Orik, Zelar, and Venin just chilling inside. It was almost infuriating, though Rana, Trisaor, and Khaen were far too exhausted to complain or even refuse the hearty, homemade stew of cheap meat but filling root vegetables that the tiefling siblings offered. The three grudgingly gave in to their loudly growling stomachs.

After eating, washing, and changing into clean clothes--Rana borrowed some of Trisaor’s--the mercs and the family were finally able to sit down and discuss the Lantern King’s gamer business. Only Zelar hadn’t acquired the fey divinity’s favor, but with their proximity to three gamer siblings, it seemed likely the youngest tiefling would contract it sooner or later. Some kind of combat encounter appeared to be part of the impetus, and with all the city in unrest, no one was safe. Especially not the tieflings.

Neither Orik nor Venin mentioned what they’d learned about the merc’s twin brother. There wasn’t much point. Verik had indeed frequented Eel’s End, but he’d vanished from all his friends’ and acquaintances' lives shortly after summer’s end. No one had a clue as to where he’d gone, though most of them had variously morbid ideas of his fate, leaving Orik back at square one.

Zelar drifted off to sleep before the conversation had ended. It’d been a long day for all of them. Trisaor, Venin, and Khaen broke out the blankets for themselves and their honored guests. They were all more than happy to pass out on the floor of the cramped but homey flat.


	10. Chapter 10

In the days that followed, the newly crowned Queen Ilesa put down Korvosa's protests and riots by instituting martial law. She established a new military order entirely for that purpose, the Gray Maidens. They were outfitted in the finest full-plate armor, a longsword and shield, and a blank-faced helm sporting a crimson plume. Most terrifyingly, they were given the all-clear to kill anyone who opposed them.

With peace restored, albeit one simmering with tensions and discontent threatening to boil over at any moment, Ilesa held a parade to celebrate her coronation at the end of the week. Rana's ship to Katapesh planned to set sail that evening, so they and Orik accepted the tiefling family's invitation to watch the parade together. It was good to see Trisaor and their siblings one last time--not just for Rana but possibly Orik as well.

After saving the tieflings, he and Rana had spent the rest of the week visiting Korvosa's sketchiest brothels, gambling halls, and drug dens in search of his brother. The result was the same at each. If Verik had frequented the place, it hadn't been since summer. Orik had given up all hope of ever finding him here.

Not that it particularly bothered him. He and his twin hadn't been close since they were children. Besides, even if they'd reunited and Verik had been able to pass a few job opportunities his way, he'd seen Korvosa's instability firsthand. A city under martial law was not an ideal place for a mercenary to work. In fact, he was better off going back to his father's place in Varisia's old smuggling haven of Riddleport.

While traditional piracy had flagged there in modern times, Riddleport was a city-state run by crime bosses. Even his father, Saul, once had aspirations toward criminal bossdom. At any rate, it was a far better hunting ground for a merc than the balmy but terrorized Korvosa.

“Here she comes,” said Trisaor, voice hushed.

After the flourish and pomp of the musicians, dancers, and acrobats marched a far more sober contingent of Gray Maidens. They surrounded three exquisitely clad individuals astride equally ornamented steeds. The first and foremost was unmistakable. Ilesa wore a green and white silk dress worth thousands of gold pieces. She had typical Chelaxian features--dark hair and eyes paired with pale skin--but appeared unnaturally young as though she’d never left her early twenties.

Following her on her right was an equally beauteous young woman. The 18-year-old wore the same armor and carried the same weapons as the Gray Maidens but not the helm. Which made it clear to see that she was a tiefling resembling both Ilesa and Trisaor’s family.

Orik and Rana might have stared if not for the figure following the queen on her left. He was a 21-year-old Varisian with rugged good looks dressed in a matching suit of green and white silk. And he looked exactly like Orik.

Verik’s eyes met his twin’s. He gaped at Orik, turning over his shoulder and nearly leading his steed into the line of Gray Maidens. The tiefling, however, grabbed his reins with eyes narrowed to golden slits. With a sheepish grin, he fell back into line.

Trisaor, Venin, Khaen, and Zelar stared at Orik as the three passed.

“That guy--he looked just like you,” said Trisaor.

“Yeah. Yeah, that was Verik,” said Orik.

“Your brother, he’s the queen’s consort,” said Venin.

“So who was that tiefling who looked like you?” asked Rana.

“Our sister, Sabrie,” said Khaen.

“She’s the only one our mom didn’t kick out of the palace,” said Zelar dourly.

The dark silence that fell upon the older siblings was enough to keep the mercs from asking any more questions about that. The family walked them back to the tavern far more soberly than when everyone had set out. They sat down together at a table.

“Order anything you like,” said Orik. “It’s on us.”

“On you,” corrected Rana, who’d spent all the coin they had on hand on their ticket to Katapesh.

“After everything you’ve done for us, just let me pay for the meal,” said Trisaor.

Orik quirked his brow. “I’ve seen where you live. I’ll cover this meal. When I come back to visit, you can treat me.”

“You and Rana will really come back here to see us?” asked Khaen.

The two smiled gently at the kids. “We’ll try,” said Rana.

“Awesome!” said Zelar.

Venin said nothing, keeping her eyes down on the rough illustrations of food on the tavern’s menu. She liked the mercs, but she knew empty, comforting words when she heard them.

After the warm meal and plenty of cheap ale in their bellies, the mood lightened around the table. The family stayed with the mercs at the table until the time neared for Rana’s departure. They walked together to the docks, laughing and chatting. Even Venin cracked a smile or two.

Rana was touched that all the tieflings wanted to give them a hug goodbye. As for Orik...they extended a hand for a shake. As the two clasped hands, they broke into laughter. They’d been through far too much together to be so formal. Orik and Rana embraced instead.

Then the ship’s bell tolled. Rana gave their friends a quick wave and ran up the gangplank. Orik and the tieflings waved at them from the pier, staying until the ship vanished from the edge of their darkvision.

Orik walked them back to the Shingles on the opposite, eastern side of the city. While there no longer seemed to be a chance of a mob hassling the family, the merc really didn’t like the look of those Gray Maiden patrols. He stopped just outside their tenement. All the tieflings wanted to hug him, too.

“Thanks for everything, Orik,” said Trisaor. “Please do come back and visit. We’d always be happy to see you.”

“Bring Rana with you!” said Khaen.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he smiled.

“Don’t forget us,” Zelar warned him.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good luck in Riddleport,” said Venin.

“Yeah, good luck!” said the others.

“Thanks,” he laughed, waving goodbye.

The further Orik got from the Shingles, the deeper he fell into thought. Seeing his twin and as the queen’s consort no less had been absolutely surreal. Verik was...living in an entirely different world, one he’d never be able to touch even if he wanted to.

So on the morrow, he joined a trade caravan on route to Riddleport. While sitting in the back of a covered wagon, he couldn’t help listening in on the other passengers’ conversation about recent events in their target city. An inexplicable shadow hovered in the sky over Riddleport, attracting an unprecedented number of scholars and mystics to the criminal city. The locals had taken to calling it ‘the Blot’ and blaming it for all sorts of unusual occurrences--a few of which sounded like outright fictitious gossip.

A scholar from Korvosa's Acadamae claimed that small metal items, including weapons and armor, had suddenly become magnetized all across Riddleport. The magnetism purportedly lasted for ten minutes.

An itinerant dock worker heard a sudden tidal surge had hit the city's harbor. The atypically large wave pushed ship's against piers and strained the boardwalks, causing minor damage. Several stevedores and beachcombers were caught unaware and washed out to sea, never to be seen again. Reefclaws and swamp barracudas were left snapping in their place.

An old, well-traveled grandma swore that one day, flocks of seagulls had spontaneously taken to the air and flew in a cacophonous spiral. More and more flocks joined them until they wheeled from over the city to the Cyphergate. Then...they dove into it, crashing violently by the hundreds. The few survivors flew out to sea. For the next 2 days, the smashed and broken carcasses of seagulls had washed up on the beaches and clustered as flotsam beneath the wharves.

“And after them, the stench of rot lingered like a curse,” said the grandma. “You can still catch a whiff of death along the southern reaches of the city.”

That...sounded more like a tale than something that had actually happened, but the name ‘Cyphergate’ pinged Orik’s memory. As a child, he and his whole family had lived in Riddleport for a time before his parents split and his mother took all the children with her to Magnimar. He was certain he’d known at one time what the Cyphergate was, but now it drew a curiously foggy blank.

“Excuse me, what’s the Cyphergate?” he asked, finally speaking up.

“Why, that gods-damned massive stone arch over the harbor. Every ship passes under it.” 

“A bunch of mages have made a career of studyin’ it on account of strange lights and sounds coming from it sometimes.”

“It’s got all kinds of symbols carved into it, too. Nobody knows what they mean.”

Memories came flooding back through the fog. How could he have forgotten the arch that rose 350ft above the water at high tide. It loomed up from rocky crags on either side of the harbor mouth, its diameter 700ft. Rectangular in cross section and 35ft wide, the sides bore massive runes and glyphs. 

It was built of an unidentifiable stone that was almost supernaturally hard. It resisted almost all efforts at defacing or marking and had weathered countless  
centuries before Riddleport had even been founded. Some said that the arch was actually the upper portion of a great stone ring, the bottom of which laid buried beneath the harbor. Long-abandoned excavations had proven it descended deeply into the bedrock, but how far down it went and how it could have been implanted in the natural stone remained as much of a mystery as the meanings of its runes.

Strangely enough, his own memory of the ancient, cryptic structure made parts of the old grandma's story seem more plausible. There had always been something ominous about the looming arch, which always made him question why a bunch of superstitious pirates had founded a city in its shadow. Perhaps to fend off even more superstitious sailors.

At any rate, he wasn't looking forward to seeing it again. He wouldn't have to, if he stayed away from the dock district in southern Riddleport. He wondered if that was why he'd subconsciously chosen to travel there by land instead of taking the faster route by sea...nah. He was just saving money was all.

As he recalled, his father Saul had always been extraordinarily awful when it came to coin. He might even find the man homeless, debt-ridden, or in debtor's prison when he got there. Dear old dad--no wonder mom had left him.


	11. Book 3, Homecoming

Rana’s ship out from Korvosa carried the Keleshite mercenary along the southeastern waters of the Inner Sea, skirting around Osirion on the northeastern coast of Garund to their homeland, Katapesh. They disembarked at the first port in Katapesh’s arid, mountainous north. The small, rough city on the northeastern shore was known as Driftwood.

From the water, Driftwood appeared to be an inlet ringed by sheer-walled cliffs--inhospitable at best and outright fatal at worst. Jagged rocks protruding from the surf did nothing to ameliorate its treacherous appearance. The old ship’s captain, however, deftly navigated around the rocks and into the inlet, where the cliffs fell away to reveal a shallow, sheltered cove. Farther north, the Brazen Peaks loomed as they traced the border between northern Katapesh and southern Osirion.

Rana disembarked and headed for the nearest tavern. As tired as the young evoker was, Driftwood was hardly their final stop. No, they were in search of a merchant caravan headed for Kelmarane, the village of their childhood.

“Kelmarane?” The tavernkeep let out an incredulous laugh. “Haven’t you heard? They fell to the gnolls.”

A dark shadow fell across Rana’s face. Gnolls were the hyena humanoid creation of Lamashtu, Mother of Monsters herself. They were intelligent and had the same capacity for good and evil as any of the races, in the shadow of Pale Mountain, their savagery took on a new dimension. Most tribes were feared enough in their worship and devotion to Lamashtu, but the gnoll tribes around Rana’s village worshipped an even worse deity, Rovagug the Rough Beast.

Sworn to Rovagug’s bloody, militant religion, his followers were well known for their savage raids, slaughter, and debauchery. The village of Kelmarane had long learned to defend itself from the odd raiding party. If the warring tribes had managed to unite...the evoker doubted anyone from their childhood home would’ve survived.

"Sorry you had to hear it from me, kid. Here, on the house." The tavernkeep poured a large mug of grape and aniseed liquor with water to temper the bite.

"Thanks." They took several sips before feeling up to talking again. "Do you know how it happened?"

"I only know what I've heard. Something happened with the Sarenite priests, not sure what, but enough to divide the town. They weren't communicating or in any position to fend off the whole army of gnolls that came down from the Brazen Peaks. Those who could run, ran. Those who couldn't, well…

"There were a couple attempts to take the village back. They didn't work out. Seems like one of the tribes and their allies decided to settle down in the ruins."

Rana's head perked up. "Only one of the tribes?"

"Yeah, but one strong enough to take out all the adventuring parties who attack them--if you didn't catch that part."

Oh, they had. But they were also aware that none of those parties had included themself. As a Kelmarane villager, they'd trained from a young age to fight back against the threat of gnolls raiders. It was part of what made them such an excellent mercenary.

The evoker smiled secretively. "I'm not surprised they tried anyway. I grew up in Kelmarane. Since the village is gone, I suppose there's no harm in telling you now…"

"Telling me what?"

Rana took a long draught of their liquor. "Beneath the village, in the crypts, there's an ancient holy relic. The elders used to say Sarenrae herself bestowed it into Kelmarane's keeping."

"You don't say!"

The evoker put a finger to their lips. "That is my thanks for the drink. But it's need-to-know information only. I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention it to anyone unless they might be interested in seeking me out."

"Of course, of course. Dawnflower burn me if I don't."

By the end of the week, Rana had three adventurers interested in 'taking back Kelmarane' on their side...for a hundred gold each. The evoker paid them half now and set the rest aside for later. Along with their earlier purchase of the ship fare, that left them with a mere 35 gold pieces. They had no doubt, however, that the occupying gnolls had plenty of weapons and armor they could sell.

So Rana and their three new companions set out from Driftwood in the chill, early morning. Walking up front with the evoker was an ethnically Garundi fighter, Garav. He had dark brown skin, a short crop of thick black hair, and black eyes. Behind them was Zatora, a Keleshite ifrit cleric of Sarenrae. She had deep bronze skin, eyes like glowing embers, and smoke-black hair that floated around her shoulders as though with a life of its own. Taking up the rear guard was a div-spawn tiefling rogue, Arohk. She/they had blue skin, branching horns, and cat-like yellow eyes.

Rana knew almost nothing about the adventurers except that they were, like themself, young, intrepid, and ambitious. Truth be told, that was all they needed to know. They marched in silence through the craggy hills of the stony badlands both to save energy and stay alert to any threats.

That first day, they didn't make it deep enough into the hinterlands to make themselves a target to any hostile forces. They did, however, spot a ruined monastery just before dusk. It would make a decent campsite, depending on its occupants.

Scrub brush and a patchy carpet of weeds had invaded the monastery through two fallen sections of a wall. The exposed nave beyond was a huge hallway littered with debris ranging from tiny rocks to collapsed masonry. Most of the roof above the long promenade was gone, but several jagged pillars remained.

While Rana, Garav, and Arohk checked for signs of passage, the cleric was drawn to a huge, bas-relief statue of a bearded Vudrani turning toward a depiction of Pale Mountain, highest of the Brazen Peaks. Their face was drawn with mortal concern. The evoker came and stood beside Zatora.

"Who's this?" Obviously not Abadar or Sarenrae, the most commonly worshipped gods in Katapesh.

"St. Varish, a holy monk of Sarenrae's. They aren't revered outside of this region...and only rarely even in these parts."

Rana had certainly never heard of them, although they weren't the most rigorous of Sarenites themself. "Why's that?"

"St. Varish was disgraced--"

A cacophony of shrieks and cackles burst from the doorway to a cavernous chapel. Into the nave swarmed a dozen pugwampis, tiny fey gremlins resembling green-skinned, bipedal dogs. They were led by one of their kind swinging a gnomish warhammer in two hands and wearing a bird skull crown.

“Gods damn it,” cursed Garav.

Pugwampis were more nuisance than threat, but their aura of unluck that they radiated made them bloody difficult to dispatch even if they couldn't land a scratch on any of the party members. Fortunately, they weren't particularly stalwart. Once Rana and the others had cut down their chief and half the pack, the rest ran shrieking and scattering out from the monastery.

[Ability traced: unluck aura, every hostile creature within 20ft makes all attacks, saves, and skill checks at a disadvantage. This is a mind-affecting ability and does not affect any creature with a luck bonus]

[Level up: gamer 6, your HP has increased by 8. Your accuracy has increased by 1. Your Fortitude, Reflex, and Will saves have increased by 1]

From the looks of confusion on Garav, Zatora, and Arohk's faces, they had also traced the unluck aura and attained level 2 in the Lantern King's mysterious gamer class.

"Hey, uh, did anyone else--" started the Vudrani tiefling.

"I'll explain later," said Rana. "The short of it is, I was blessed at the whim of the Lantern King, and his blessing appears to be contagious."

The fighter shrugged. "As long as it's making us stronger, I'm not complaining."

"How in the Mortal Realm did you have a run-in with the Lantern King?" asked the cleric. From her question, it was clear she knew exactly who the Fey divinity was and likely enough not to trust him.

"Later. I doubt those pugwampis were the only residents here."

"After you, blessed one," the rogue bowed.

Rana rolled their eyes. With Garav at their side, they entered the chapel from whence the gremlins had come. They fanned out to examine the huge ruin. Though each wall had suffered damage, they still bore bas-relief images that told an obscure story none of them had ever heard.

The north wall depicted five warriors riding with the wind, each in possession of an iconic weapon. Or they would have, if their hands and arms hadn't been so weathered or broken. One of the riders was none other than St. Varish.

The eastern wall depicted the five in battle against an army of efreeti, genies of fire. The southern wall bore an image of Pale Mountain. Here, four of the riders ascended to the heavens. Only St. Varish remained grounded upon the earth below. Finally the western wall from which they’d entered, showed the disgraced saint at the construction of this very monastery and walking through successive eras alongside the mortal leader of the monks.

Rana, who was hardly a theologian, couldn’t tell whether the last images were meant to be literal or figurative. If they had to guess, figurative. Especially after Zatora’s mention of the saint having been disgraced--enough that all of this had been forgotten.

More to the point, judging from the stench and collections of bone trinkets, this chapel had been the pugwampis’ living quarters. With no more of the gremlins in sight, the group proceeded from the chapel into the deeper halls. They encountered a half dozen more of the tiny fey but cut them easily down to size. It turned out that having the unluck aura oneself negated the effect of another’s.

Down they went to the monastery’s underground. Here were the crypts and amongst them, an unexpected laboratory. It held two daises, each accessed by a wide set of curved stairs. Atop either was a large workbench covered in a bewildering array of glass beakers, tubes, alembics, athanors, and other alchemical tools. Some were filled with a murky green slime. The walls of the subterranean lab were clearly fashioned from the living rock under the monastery, but carefully cut, slime-encrusted tiles lined the floor, interrupted occasionally by metal drains the size of dinner plates.

“We don’t actually have to go in there, do we?” asked Arohk.

Rana cast see invisibility on themself. “Well, there aren’t any ghosts, but those daises are easily large enough to hide something or someone.”

“Carefully, then,” said Zatora.

Garav, scimitar in hand, went in first. A rattle echoed from a broken pipe jutting from the wall. Followed by a rattle from the glass containers. And the metal drains. Hostile ooze burst from the pipe, the containers, and the drains, congealing into four 3-by-3-by-3ft murky green slime molds.

“I don’t think so,” said Rana, blasting the nearest ooze with burning hands. Which...had no effect. “Crap, they’re immune to fire!”

Garav swung his scimitar, cleaving his slime mold into a gooey puddle. “Weapons are working.”

“Good to know,” said Zatora, slashing with her own scimitar. She wasn’t strong enough to cut her slime down in a single blow, but Arohk backed her up with a finishing stab. The ooze splattered apart into liquefied murk.

“Ew,” remarked the rogue.

In the meantime, Rana’s slime mold wrapped around their leg, engulfing it. A vision flashed through their mind. A monk, St. Varish, battled the efreeti army with a staff enchanted with glyphs of frost. The vision faded, replaced by another. St. Varish stood in the chapel garden, digging. They buried the staff beneath a large and prickly briar.

The visions ended as soon as they began, Garav’s scimitar hacking the ooze off the evoker. The three newest gamers leveled up to 3. All four traced perhaps the most powerful ability of the slime molds, 60ft of blindsight. It was enough to make even the skeptical cleric rethink her position on the capricious Laughing Lie.

“Monastery cleared?” asked Arohk.

“Almost. Follow me.” Rana led them back up to the main level and through the chapel into the overgrown garden. They immediately recognized the briar from their vision, although it had grown to the size of a tree since the time of the staff’s burial. “Help me dig here.”

“Why?” asked Garav straight out.

“I don’t know why, but when we were fighting those slime molds, I had a vision of St. Varish burying their staff of frost here. It would be an excellent weapon to wield as an evoker.”

“I think I know why,” said Zatora. “St. Varish was disgraced for trying to use alchemy to extend their life. They performed all kinds of experiments on themself. Some say this led to their ignominious death. Others, to a transformation worse than death.”

“Uh, so this staff’s not cursed, is it?” asked the tiefling.

There was only one way to find out. Garav’s efforts predominantly unearthed the staff. It appeared just as it had in Rana’s vision. As soon as they touched its light but sturdy heft, the magic glyphs along its length lit with an icy blue light. A name rose to their tongue.

“Tempest...and no, it’s not cursed.” It was a +2 fire outsider bane frost weapon. Much more suitable for a wizard than the simple dagger they’d been carrying since the fateful Sandpoint job.


	12. Chapter 12

Rana told the three new gamers everything they knew about the Lantern King and his curious blessing that night around the campfire. The three listened closely while chewing their trail rations, the only other food option being pugwampi, which no one was keen on cooking or eating.

“A dangerous gift, depending on your choice of allies,” said the cleric.

Rana shrugged. "As long as the good outweigh the bad."

"So what, is it poor duty to spread this around to 'the worthy'?" joked Arohk, making air quotes.

"I'm with Zatora on this one," said Garav. "Most people shouldn't be getting anywhere near this stuff. Us, now, I guess."

The evoker stood with a yawn and stretch. "Do what you will. I'm off to bed."

The gamer party set off the next morning. Around dusk, they spotted the first sign of gnolls in the badlands. Just beyond a rocky outcrop, they caught sight of six gnolls dragging a body beaten bloody, black, and blue, into a strangely flattened clearing. The gnolls stood around the body in a circle and beat the ground with oversized staves.

“What the hell kind of ritual is this?” muttered Arohk under her breath.

“It doesn’t appear religious, but more importantly,” said Zatora, “their victim might still be alive.”

Garav unsheathed his scimitar. “Then let’s kill some gnolls.”

“Wait!” hissed Rana...far too late, the fighter and cleric running off toward the gnolls.

The world shook under their feet. The earth rent asunder between the group of gnolls and the would-be heroes. Five, 10ft long arms covered in barbs whipped up from beneath a cover of dust. At their center was a circular maw lined with dagger-like teeth.

Even from a distance, there was no mistaking the badlands predator. It was a dust digger, a monstrous aberration resembling a mammoth starfish. Its thick, sand-colored exoskeleton was covered with rough, burr-like spines.

The gnolls ran off, howling with laughter as the dust digger whipped one tentacle out at the body and two each at the fighter and cleric. Rana and Arohk had no interest in chasing them. The aberration who swallowed that body in one gulp was by far the bigger threat.

Garav and Zatora parried off the tentacles, but stumbled toward the maw as the creature turned the surrounding area into a sinkhole. Rana levitated up out of the tentacles' reach and fired down a volley of force missiles. Arohk, who had no long ranged options, stood at the edge of the sinkhole, sickles out, and tried to bait the tentacles into attacking her with shouts and heavy stomping. The rogue was semi-successful.

One tentacle snapped out at the tiefling, but the other two continued to whale on the fighter and cleric, driving them further in toward the giant maw. Rana cursed. The only way to stop this thing was to deal a lot of damage, fast. 

The evoker cast their most powerful spell, scorching ray. At the same time, Garav and Zatora each managed to hack through one tentacle with their scimitars. The rest of the dust digger caught fire from Rana's spell. With no more need to watch their backs for tentacle attacks, the fighter and cleric clambered out of the sinkhole.

[Ability traced: natural armor, natural armor limit increased to 7]

Garav, Zatora, and Arohk also leveled up to gamer 4, which also increased their ability scores. It made the three curious. While they took a rest after facing off against the aberration, they did some inner investigation and discovered something they could only describe as a gamer/character stat page.

“Huh,” said Rana. They’d never looked into such a thing themself, but as soon as they thought about it, the mental sheet popped up into their mind.

[Human, Keleshite, 18yrs, evoker 3/gamer 6  
Initiative 6; Senses darkvision, blindsight 60ft; Aura 20ft unluck  
Defense  
AC 20, touch 16, flat 17 (natural armor +7)  
HP 44; (1d6+3)  
Fortitude 5, Reflex 5, Will 6  
Defensive abilities evasion; Immune mind-affect; SR 19  
Offense  
Speed 30ft  
Melee Tempest +6 (1d6+2+1d6 ice plus fire outsider bane/x2+1d10 ice)  
Special attacks 3+Int (3) force missiles (1d4+3)  
Spell-like abilities (CL 9)  
At-will levitation  
Spells (CL 9; max DC 14)  
2nd scorching ray, flurry of snowballs, resist energy, see invisibility, gust of wind  
1st burning hands, mage armor, shocking grasp, comprehend languages, obscuring mist, floating disk, identify, hydraulic push, endure elements  
0 (at will) acid splash, ray of frost, prestidigitation, open/close  
Statistics  
Str 10, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 15, Wis 12, Cha 13  
BAB 4  
Feats dodge, mobility, scribe scroll, spell focus (evocation), improved initiation, spell penetration  
Languages Common, Goblin, Kelish  
SQ trace, intense spells  
Gear scroll of comprehend languages, scroll of resist energy, scroll of see invisibility, scroll of endure elements, scroll of identify, cloak of resistance +1, everburning torch, dagger, 35 gp  
Special abilities   
]

Huh. It seemed they were more gamer than evoker now. In a way, Rana had suspected this, but to see it in cold, hard, numbers…the Keleshite frowned pensively. Like it or not, this was their new reality. As well as that of their companions.

The discovery put Rana in a somber mood as they continued on their way to Kelmarane. Approaching from the east, the group’s first foray into the village lands was through the old pesh cacti fields. Although most of the money crop had withered away to dust and grit, the odd cacti and other, hardier weeds poked their heads through the sand.

On the western horizon loomed Pale Mountain itself. Tallest of the Brazen Peaks, the appeared to stand on its own, rising from jagged earth. It was every bit as forlorn and beautiful as depicted in the monastery.

“I can see why people wanted to build here,” said Zatora. Despite the imminent dangers from their gnoll neighbors, which had inevitably come to call.

“Nope, not worth it,” said Arohk. “Pesh can grow anywhere.”

“Want or not, it would’ve been impossible without the cisterns underground,” said Rana.

“Oh, good,” said Garav. “We’ll be able to refill our canteens.”

Before they could do that, however, an inhuman howl pierced the late afternoon heat. The sentry who’d spotted them was no gnoll but a 7ft-tall, humanoid demon with the head and twisted horns of a goat. The schir kept its distance between them and the far, outer wall of Kelmarane.

A dust cloud kicked up just outside the wall--allies. The schir’s hands and muzzle continued to move. It was spellcasting, likely buffs to make it even more of a menace later.

“Now, charge now!” commanded Rana, casting mage armor on themself.

The fighter and cleric needed no further direction. They ran at the demon, scimitars drawn. Arohk hung back just enough to position herself for flanking. The fiend may’ve had damage resistance, but she’d be damned if she couldn’t get in a few sneak attacks before its allies got here.

Rana levitated off the ground for a better vantage point. “We’ve got five gnolls coming.”

Not the random pack from earlier, either. The four were led by a flind, a more cunning and predatory subrace of gnoll. Rana grit their teeth and saved their stronger, elemental spells for the gnolls--demons were notoriously resistant to electricity as well as acid, cold, and fire, if not spells in general. For now, all they could do was count the seconds.

The schir proved hard to hit for the gamers on the ground, but at least their heightened natural armor and unluck auras made them as equally difficult to attack. As soon as the gnolls charged into range, Rana hit them with a flurry of snowballs...icy projectiles, to be more precise. Two of the dumber gnolls threw their spears at the caster in retaliation, their aim falling victim to Rana’s own unluck aura.

Which also put them in range of the evoker’s burning hands. Rana smiled down with a half-grin as the two fell. They had a plan. They could care of the gnolls while the others whittled down the schir’s health.

Only the flind directed its underlings out of their range and into an attack on Arohk, who had the lowest Armor Class of the grounded party members. Rana frowned. At least they knew exactly who to direct their last scorching ray spell at. 

The flind survived the fiery rays but not without taking serious damage. It was enough to prompt one of the underling gnolls to throw their spear at Rana. Unequipped, that was one less fool to worry about.

They set off a volley of force missiles at the flind, ending its life. Arohk, though she had to switch from attacking the demon to fending off the gnolls, could now manage with the best of the gnoll fighters in the dust. At the same time, Garav and Zatora put an end to the goat-headed fiend.

All four teammates leveled up. They traced the schir’s at-will spell-like ability, tongues, giving them the power to speak and understand all languages. From the flind, they picked up a feat called combat expertise, allowing them to expand their martial options.

The gnolls also had a few healing potions, which they made liberal use of. The furballs weren’t carrying any currency in the commonly accepted coins, but their weapons were good or masterwork quality and could be sold at a marketplace. Though now was not the time to be burdening themselves down with extraneous metal.

They had a few hours of daylight before their range was reduced to 60ft of blindsight. While that was a significant advantage against the gnolls’ 60ft of mere darkvision, it didn’t make for great scouting in an area occupied by the nocturnal humanoids. The party decided to keep their eyes out for any more sentries and do all the scouting they could for entrances into Kelmarane before dark. At dusk, they would retreat back to the far edge of the old cacti fields.

Sure enough, as the light diminished, the activity around the ruins increased. The four played it safe and stealthy, however, and didn’t get caught by any of the newly wakened gnolls. They made it back to their rendezvous point and set up camp without a campfire. After a cold dinner of trail rations and cistern water, they took turns on watch. 

They had decided to wait for first light to make their move on the occupied village. Finding an entry point had been the easy part. Once they began their infiltration, there was no telling when they would be able to rest again.


End file.
